Search This Blog

Saturday, February 10, 2018

"I attack all things new. I'm but barely alive..." Autoantipathetic ABC; or, O Loathsome Me (from AmalgaMates)

I attack all things new. I'm but barely alive.
No, I haven't a clue. I'm deficient in drive.
All my energy's spent and my faith is a sham.
Did I gamble the rent...? Yes. (I hate who I am.)
I'm deep into the booze. When I'm jealous, I pout.
I garrotted my muse once my luck had run out.
I am manic yet dim. I persistently bore.
I'm wa-a-ay out on a limb. My libido is poor.
I'm too quick to accuse. In your wounds I'll rub salt.
I consistently lose. Want the truth...? It's my fault.
I am up to no good. I am vain to the bone.
I will not (though I should). I am xenophobe-prone.
Though I yearn to be hip I wind up acting twee:
I'm a zero, a zip. But, what d'you think of me...?

No comments:

Post a Comment

If I Were Elite

If granted but a single wish, I'd wish I were elite. Were I elite, I'd float a yacht; indeed, I'd float a fleet.  Were I elite, ...