My nights are lit

by the solitary fridge light,

and the flickering vibrancy

of bad television.


Torn between another beer

and sitting still,

I often do neither

or regret both.


Learning the day

or the time

from the inane wittering

of a presenter I should really ignore.


I age like cheap wine,


I pray for company

yet fail to take calls.


If life has taught me anything,

I have forgotten it already,

Moved on with my worry

and cursed myself incessantly.


I now seek what I cannot have,

Peace and quiet,

My mind chatters like a monkey troop,

I smile at the thought.




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