Middle Class White Guy
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Drinking For Thinking

Blank sheet in front of me
Trying to write some poetry
Hoping to impress
The girl in the low-cut dress
But nothing comes to mind
The rhymes I cannot find
So instead I resort to cliché
Because I've nothing better to say
I have another drink
To try and help me think

My head feels like a barren field
It's years since it had a significant yield
My neurons are workmen drinking tea
My synapses fishermen lost at sea
My thoughts are magnolia, safe and bland
My words are predictable as an egg timer's sand
So I have another gin and tonic
And hope it makes me feel more rhythmic

I look for excitement in daytime TV
But there's a hundred channels of nothing to see
I switch on the radio to stir up my blood
But a plain of banality will do me no good
I boot up a browser and go surfing for porn
But after so many cum-shots it gets a bit worn
I top up my level of alcohol
And wonder if it's gonna help at all

Now the gin's kicking in, and my brain's back again
But the lines may not rhyme, and there's no plan to scan
Each word may be blurred, and the beat may not work
But if I fight I just might, get my voice to be heard
Gimme just another shot
That last one really hit the spot

I search for some sort of inspiration
But lacking that I resort to confusion
While my liver is fighting I write about writing
My brain tries to think while I kill it with drink
Why do I try and write poetry
When there's no obvious gain to be had for me
Time I think to top me up
I need something to prop me up

I barely know grammar, my head is a chasm
My blood is subject to licensing laws
Self abuse constant but poetry absent
My pupils are pinpricks, my fingertips claws
My house-mates noises are schizophrenic voices
Too much gin and tonic, it's not Shakespeare's sonnets
I can't remember why I do this to myself
Is art so important you destroy yourself?
Maybe just another sip
Possibly then I'll get a grip

Too much booze and it's all gone wrong
I thought at first I might write a song
The girl with the cleavage will not be impressed
A litre of gin, and I am not at my best

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