The Octopus with a Tea Kettle on the Dashboard

Pour me a drink, clay friend
while I bend my brains round what is left of my gall.
I should hope what you offer
is a coffer stronger than I imagined it to be.
There isn’t much left within
bereft of that which can supposedly save me;
lonely, lonely time, but I am appalled by my surroundings.

Forgive my impatience, I cared not for the rhyme
I was very upset.

The funny thing about effort is that many people are indifferent
and many are not.
I found the spot, I made the plan, now I’m the man,
or expected to be.
Some people care, others still dare to complain,
without contribution.
To retaliate is a sin, so I guess I’ll just sit and I’ll sink
and I’ll die in the hole that I’m in.

What better way to go out
than to whine and to pout
amidst this breathtaking tranquility.