On the rug beside my chair
I saw a crumb, that wasn’t there
I’d been up half the day before
So I could polish and prepare
And now my squalor’s evident
I think I’ll move into a tent
My lover is a transient cat
Who likes to sleep upon a bat
He loves my smell and my bare skin
As he sniffs the soul within
I dream of failing/ passing tests
And men who have those tender wrists
I found some Xmas cards last night
Is this a broader hint to write?
My father drew upon the wall
Before he ended in his fall
I saw them through the wall paper
I looked again but they’re not there
I liked the humbler kind of folk
I am modest,I just quote
I like to guess what they will say
So sit beside them every day
But now it’s late and I’m not here
You will only see my tears
