when i'm sprawled in bed, consumed by greed,
too tired to write, too buzzy to read.
when eventually it's too dark to see,
i wonder what sort of regret you'll be.

when the roadworks start at silly o'clock,
beeping and thudding their way 'round the block,
when sleep is a long-abandoned thing,
to which of my memories should i cling?

when clumsily fucking my patient wife,
who strangely continues in my life,
when choosing a vision to end it all,
how often will it be you i'll recall?

when older than ever, you still not caught up,
outdoing your waist and your runner-up cup,
when blatantly lying with every word,
perhaps i'll confess it was always absurd,
maybe i'll admit i was utterly mad
imagining i wouldn't become my dad,
daydreaming you'd lower your standards that much,
still staring to glimpse a permission to touch.

i'm sorry for wasting so much of your time,
your soul is too special for interest in mine,
i'm too crass to tempt you, too lazy to try,
too needy, regretty and ready to cry.

xxx