We are small men, both of us,
For all our these won’t happen dreams
That we write down in Moleskine notebooks
Bought in last year’s sales at bottom dollar,
Both of us in ‘high performance’ coats with waterproof taped seams
And hoods that fold away inside the collar,
Both in don’t quite fit me supermarket jeans that don’t improve our looks.
But both of us are poets, each in our own way,
Though neither of us, really, has very much to say.
We are small men, both of us,
But both of us are poets, each in our own way.