Let the babble stop
Let the brain farts cease
Let pleasure be your guide 
And the poet slip into their persona,
Like a performance uniform, 
A slip dress
An existential throw up of thoughts like 
Bad Chinese food.
The kind that climbs out of Tupperware, 
slippers ready 

Of Tupperware and ready slippers
***** out takeaway rice.
Performance uniforms sit up in bed, 
Babbling about existential poets.
The bad Chinese food 
Waltzes with its guide, 
Brain dribbles out of nostrils.
Dear night-shoes, 
This babble has ceased,
Pleasurely.