- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Smoker's Lament
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Holy shit, it's five a.m.
First thought of the day:
Ugh, not again.
Close my eyes,
say a prayer
open them up
fucker's still there.
KILL THE ALARM CLOCK.
Okay fine, I'll get the
fuck out of bed,
Do I want to make
frozen waffles?
I'll make cereal instead.
How long do I got?
Barely an hour,
I guess if I hurry
I can grab a quick shower.
Where's my red shirt
the one with the stain
if I rinse out the ketchup
I can wear it again.
If I wear it under something
even better,
I hope it's rainy or muddy outside
so I can blame the weather.
Shave face, shave face, shave face
same thing every day
I wonder if I grow my soul patch
if I'll look hotter that way
Maybe lose a couple pounds
yeah, one or two.
I need a new shirt.
This one sucks. I bet I can
get one for a couple bucks,
or that one at the mall,
I'll go after work, if I can
get past that HR jerk.
But his wife's kind of hot.
Alright, maybe today's gonna suck
but I'm gonna hope not.
I need a smoke.
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