Here I am, back again from a night out
It's getting pretty late, quarter to three
But what needs to be said is not about
This or that, or the other, obviously
It's what you care about, not what I see
And so I don't care what you see or think
Though I should, but I don't, quite selfishly
It's my world, I interpret it, a blink
Of my eye is enough to form a link
Between it and everything else without
And in so doing, produce poetry
Upon demand, when I come home from drink
That's what I've done once more, and have no doubt
I'll do it again, so regularly
Tue 17 Sep 2013
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