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Tuesday, November 30, 2010


For We Write Poems


Wake up O-seven O-O

Bathroom, for a number one
Or maybe a number two
Then four minutes in the shower

At forty five Centigrade

Breakfast – bet you can’t eat three
Cup of coffee, zero milk
One sugar… stirred to the left

Twelve paces to the front door

Into my four door saloon
A sixteen hundred cc
Five forward gears, one reverse

Some take the ninety nine bus

Arrive at work eight thirty
Day starts at nine on the dot
Ends at five, or thereabouts

Then back home, to Number Nine

Takeaway dinner tonight
Chinese, number forty two
Pork in green pepper, black beans

Two or three glasses of wine

Then up thirteen stairs, to bed
And I don’t mean forty winks

Morning, back to the grindstone
Five days a week, forty hours
Fifty two weeks every year

Until I reach sixty five…

Then, one day… my number’s up…