Late Morning

An old poem from the boarding school days, it gave me a laugh when I stumbled across it hidden in an old laptop.

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As the softest sunlight spilled

across the fusty speckled carpet

not unlike the fragile calm

which oft predates the storm

weary eyes of mine uncracked

to let in rotten ‘lumination

ears attached to blast and blaring

clock that tore me from the darkness

Thoughts profound to life then galloped:

“Shit… Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Itchy prickly cactus crotch an itch

produced from burning razor

stabs into the tender sack of balls

that rides within

consequent I noticed sharply

pain beneath my shoulder blade

like magma drilled between my bones

and joints to burn the flesh

on my stomach bumps arisen

fiery rash alit with reddened

skin with sudden irritation

burst to my awares

drowsy stumble to the bathroom

prop myself against the walling

messy piss with pointed laze

“Dammit… on my fucking foot!”

Briefly showered, hardly toweled

twisted into shirt and tangled

tie that doesn’t fall correctly

pants with pocket ripped

socks unmatched in shoes with holey

soles and laces loosely wedded

underwear that further triggers

irritated groin

weighty pack of weary back

held by fraying shoulder straps

renders walking slow and dumb

time to go to school