empty of ambition
'cos i'm serious this time
on the wagon with a flagon
of some cheap shit wine
full of songs and stories
so i've nothing more to say
opposition sweet submission
let it slip away
ate my fill of humble pie
my pockets full of rocks
my face is scarred my dick is hard
(just don't go near my socks)
drunk on that sweet nectar
you keep pouring in my ears
spiralling to glory
and oblivion, my dears
Poems For My Analyst by Wayne Myers