I will write something,
but maybe tomorrow.

Tonight , which has all too quickly become morning,
I am drinking wine.
And watching pre recorded TV.

Undateables, which gives hope to to the hapless
and help for the hopeless,
Is, tonight, enough for me.

Tomorrow, I shall wake and Impress you all, with my witty prose,
and my clever repartee.

But tonight, which is morning,
I will think on it
and wait upon Calliope.