Sofa (poem)

Sitting on my sofa in my second-favourite pants,
I scan a hundred channels in a Stella sort of trance.

I can only deal with people shrunk and at a distance,
Or stuff about polar bears, or distant solar systems.

I fantasise about being, about living life aquatic,
Doing something dangerous, sexy, enigmatic.

But the truth I fear would be rather more traumatic,
So I scratch myself at length, watching Cash in the Attic

Al Bundy

JOIN OUR NEWSLETTER
Join my tribe of over 2,500 followers to stay in touch with the musings of this daydreamer
Spam, spam, spam, spam... We hate spam. Your email address will not be sold or shared with anyone else.

Author: Al Lane

Writer, Poet, Daydreamer

Leave a Reply