Since I started full-time employment,
I have been seeking out moments of release
amongst the wreckage of the working day.
Looking for that kind of place to meditate,
somewhere to find a peaceful completion.
I have turned my attention to toilet cubicles,
scrawling verses over awkward thighs,
ankles bound by the descent of my boxers;
pockets of inspiration flourish as the by-product
of Newcastle Brown Ale and work stress
pollutes what's left of the open air.
But I don't care.
I never had a sense of smell.
And there's ******** flying everywhere.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
Since I started full-time employment,
I have been seeking out moments of release
amongst the wreckage of the working day.
Looking for that kind of place to meditate,
somewhere to find a peaceful completion.
I have turned my attention to toilet cubicles,
scrawling verses over awkward thighs,
ankles bound by the descent of my boxers;
pockets of inspiration flourish as the by-product
of Newcastle Brown Ale and work stress
pollutes what's left of the open air.
But I don't care.
I never had a sense of smell.
And there's ******** flying everywhere.
I am seriously trying to take myself less seriously these days.
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