Feb 2020
I woke to hell bleeding
In humid night
So hot, no fan,
No breeze to cool me.
Women complained
The few occasions
I brought them home.
My love suffered-
Except for Judy,
Who came round
At the right times.
I forgot I had no job,
No money.
Judy and I would
Get a bottle,
Pretend its New Year's Eve.
But we'd remember
Its really Tuesday.
Crawling naked, wondering
Could we even go home.
In humid night
So hot, no fan,
No breeze to cool me.
Women complained
The few occasions
I brought them home.
My love suffered-
Except for Judy,
Who came round
At the right times.
I forgot I had no job,
No money.
Judy and I would
Get a bottle,
Pretend its New Year's Eve.
But we'd remember
Its really Tuesday.
Crawling naked, wondering
Could we even go home.
Even though the poem is fictional a lot of the circumstances were true. I lived some hard years in my twenties. It made me part of who I am. And I'm grateful for every minute
