You may be right
you there, with
your wisdom higher than
mine, and the clarity of
distance to give
your own perspective

you may have
more to say
to reinforce or
shine, a light
of friendship
burning bright

sometimes
I may listen
understand, even
act
or at least try
against what you say

to no avail? You
think so, in your
subjectivity whilst
I justify statis
to myself

Meanwhile
you may be right.

Remember me
on this computer
with my passwords for web sites

and remember me
in the cache
a history of illicit looks

And is there
any other solution

to the likeness of
being trapped

out of control

aside from the obvious,
the repetitious
that is, to be

distracted again
from the moment
and then held by
a temporary fix

as the mind goes to rest
at least until the
next day
and again
then weekend
and the chance to
successfully complete
another segment of life

The best thing
about the notion of
the bottle
or its cousin
the can
is the pretence
that its your
true friend

in the corner
the sack
full of man
makes noises
whimpers
and shakes
till silence falls

and she
in the kitchen
listens

and the sack rolls
slightly about the floor
though in the cellar
no-one hears you scratch

and she
in the kicthen
wonders if the house is haunted