Another morning

This morning I woke up thinking of sex

I didn't touch myself lest I be sad

as when I fantasize about an ex

I always end up dribbling an aubade

The half-hearted morn attempt in the shower

got thwarted by my sagging embonpoint

I try to lose but more come each winter

to the point I no longer see the point

Lunch had me push the chair back for some space

I felt tired of eating while eating

nap on the armchair, telly face-to-face

threaded clumps where my elbows were sitting

– mug of tea and biscuit plate tummy-topped

outside a prison, evasion daydream –

The only prospects of glee I have left

life to be seen solely at the seam

At midnight I dozed off thinking of sex

I didn't touch myself as I was sad

as I knew there would be nobody next

I'll never have the proper serenade.