wolfgang wiseman

Inane Days - Poem by wolfgang wiseman

i wake up.
i stumble downstairs.
i put some eggs on to boil.
i flick the kettle on,
and listen to the whistle harmonise with the dog's tongue as she greedily laps away at her fanny.

i rip open a letter:
another futile threat from the taxman.
i spend a few moments thinking about all of the people trying forlornly to pay off the overwhelming national debt.

i go outside to the shed.
i grab a sledgehammer,
then smash it repeatedly into my ribs,
until i am able to lean far enough forward
so that i can rip off my balls with my own teeth.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 12, 2015

Poem Edited: Thursday, November 12, 2015

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