Too much caffeine

I know that it’s Thursday
I dreamt it was Friday
which way is the exit?

I’ve taken my tablets
and now I don’t hurt
I’m saving the blue one
for my dessert.

The mirror’s not working again,
every time I look in it
I see old men
which is peculiar
there’s only one of me.

Into her boudoir
I paint her
like Renoir,
I use
Tracy Chapman’s fast car
for a quick getaway.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.