uhhhh

Not sure what to write about when I'm down. I'd love to regale you with tales of wonder and splendor, but it's been despair and exhaustion as of late.

Huh, let's do a poem I like - make things easy.

Little Johnny's Confession - Brian Patten

This morning
being rather young and foolish
I borrowed a machinegun my father
had left hidden since the war, went out,
and eliminated a number of small enemies.
Since then I have not returned home.

This morning
swarms of police with trackerdogs
wander about the city
with my description printed
on their minds, asking:
"Have you seen him,
He is seven years old,
likes Pluto, Mighty Mouse
and Biffo the Bear,
have you seen him anywhere?"

This morning
sitting alone in a strange playground,
muttering Youve blundered Youve blundered
over and over to myself
I work out my next move
but cannot move;
the trackerdogs will sniff me out,
they have my lollypops.