- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Manic Phase
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For godssake, just stop yourself, if you're a busy little bee.
Getting done is scandalous. Sit and take a cup of tea.
It makes me dreadful anxious, how people tackle all their cares
As though failure's not an option. Working hard gives them such airs!
What is the world now come to? It's as if one can't get by
Just counting up the cobwebs or nursing a piece of pie.
They can tell me to get in gear, but to demands I will not cave:
Once Heaven sends a manic phase, I'll spend it at a rave.
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