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The poems

© 2010-2013

fame

Here we are
Another boring weekend
You asleep in front of the TV
I dozing over the latest book

On the other hand
We didn’t cut our wrists
Or overdose on valium
Or stick our heads in the oven
Or cut our ears off
Or end up in the psych ward
Or strangle with a scarf
Wrapped around the Bugatti’s wheels

How dull…
Unheralded, unsung
We have escaped the paparazzi
Avoided being snubbed at the country club
Never had to fret
About how to spend the Nobel Prize money
Or where to put the Oscar
We slept through
Fame and fortune
Lying before the fire
With the cats sprawled across our laps