black shade bullshit
green glass wotsit
drink that transit
down the hatch
white face wonder
blue sky thunder
torn asunder
met your match
she's too spooky
weird and kooky
drinks Sambuki
all night long
can't match her pace
can't keep your face
in the rat race
all gone wrong
later moaning
down and groaning
telephoning
all your friends
ask what happened
you got flattened
bruised and battened
in the ends
it's an old trick
drink your own sick
masochistic
to the last
cut it out now
scream and shout now
it's a bout now
in your past
Poems For My Analyst by Wayne Myers