Appetite

So it's just the pills and me.
Guy Clarke, Prefab Sprout.
Silk Cut.

The rain scratching windows,
of a Saturday night.

I could pick up the phone.
Talk to a friend.

In LA.
CA.
Basildon.
Wakefield.

Wherever.

But it's you that I haunt.
With that addict conviction.

It's every serenity prayer.
That I choke on.

Accept, accept accept.
These things,
that I cannot change.