DVD boxsets
and books stacked high,
clothes drip drying
while others pile dirty,
the couch last seen
some time in June.
Empty bru bottles
and unclean dishes,
crumbs from bread and cakes
and God knows what else.
Empty chocolate wrappers
and scribbled down stanzas.
Soaking wet hair
and ratty old jeans,
cheap yellow pen and
ripped notebook pages.
Empty co-codamol packs
and slightly gay hairbands.
Sitting in the carnage
comfortable in its
"blatent imagery"
instead of cleaning,
he sits and writes
to show he is an artiste dah-ling.
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