waking up to reality
it really shouldn’t be so hard
without your morning coffee hit
tongue feels like a rusty bollard

your bladder is full to bursting
it jolly well hurts to high heaven
you were supposed to wake at eight
but had to take a piss at seven

the pins & needles in your neck
have you concerned for your health
your rickety arsed hinged knees
fold into the declining years of self

a mind filled with yesterday’s fog
a handful of pills for breakfast
you hope they’re not addictive
& could swear you’re growing a bust

is that a dead bear on the couch
the mirror says no, look again
your birthday party begins tonight
twenty-five? try four score & ten!