Got more beer in, but feeling so weary
That's good, cos tomorrow's an early start
3:45 to be precise (f*ck me!)
So I must begin drinking if I'm smart
It's already 8pm, and I'm sort
Of drinking, but not with the appetite
Of yesterday, when it seemed like an art
I'll knock more back soon, but first I must write
This sonnet, or when Sunday comes I might
Have four or five, backlog of literary
Outpourings to compose, trying to depart
From the mere present in a mental fight
To recall distant events, albeit they
Were just a few days old. Still find it hard!
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