How can I compete
with tank drivers, drummers and artists;
why would you choose me
the one who can be lonely at parties.
Fourteen Facebook messages
and a walk around a sculpture park:
three pints of lager
and a bacon cheese burger
hardly entitled me to your heart.
But that was never on offer
and how I fell from the sky;
it was foolish of me to entertain
and to climb in September so high.
© Copyright D. Archer October 2011