When is it time to go home?

At least the coffee’s hot and understands me
unlike today that just backhands me,

Is it too early for a glass of wine?

My life gets stuck on tic tac toe
a no win, no win, no point to go
on, but
I go on because
I’m an awkward cuss.

I saw the universe come to a stop,
but it started up again

( explain that one Brian Cox. )

Should I, should I not have another
from the coffee pot?

I’m watching clouds break up
a bit like lovers do,
slowly disentangling,

to
be alone
to be at home
with oneself.

I need to, want to, got to,
soon.

Let’s celebrate
underneath those arches
where our dreams
dreamed with the
Moon.

Friday clicks the switch
Rik says,
” Robinson, You’re such a bitch ”
I
mention jam
which is what I feel I’m in.
but
It’ll pass, immortalised or
turn to gas
either way
Friday
is here until midnight.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.