I can’t seem to function these days

without the hot rush

of tea, without

the taste of inspiration

that fills the gut and sends

ideas spinning out of control

into a void in which

I pluck, grab and scramble

for a single notion.

Long dead

are the days when a beer,

a glassful of whisky

sipped at dawn, revolver shot

to the brain and imagination

crowded

would be the order of the day;

I miss that, I miss the insanity,

the belief that I could conquer all…

however tea you beautiful thing,

sitting there in serenity and romantic

gesture cup, you will do

and whilst I can now wake

clear headed, somehow

the pain in the bones is not satisfied

at my lifestyle choice.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016