like every man i look with endless eyes
of longing langour at the women
passed by chance along the way
betrayed in seconds by my guileless
gawking half in terror lest a smile
should upset the things i say
unhappy in my web of lies but
comfortable - just - perhaps the
devil that i know, perhaps the war
perhaps the next time. doesn't
matter. i am used to being lonely.
i am trying not to bullshit any more.
Voices In My Head by Wayne Myers