Sad Professor.

If we’re talking about love

Then I have to tell you

Dear readers, I’m not sure where I’m headed

I’ve gotten lost before

I’ve woke up stone drunk

Face down in the floor

Late afternoon, the house is hot

I started, I jumped up

Everyone hates a bore

Everybody hates a drunk

This may be a lit invention

Professors muddled in their intent

To try to rope in followers

To float their malcontent

As for this reader,

I’m already spent

Late afternoon, the house is hot

I started, I jumped up

Everyone hates a sad professor

I hate where I wound up

Dear readers, my apologies

I’m drifting in and out of sleep

Long silence presents the tragedies

Of love. Note the age. Get afraid

The surface hazy with attendant thoughts

A lazy eye metaphor on the rocks

Late afternoon, the house is hot

I started, I jumped up

Everyone hates a bore

Everybody hates a drunk

Everyone hates a sad professor

I hate where I wound up

I hate where I wound up
(REM)