The easy/lazy way out of not actually bothering to write a poem by throwing together words from a random list and adding a few of my own

At nine o’clock 

(morning or evening?-I asked)

                                            I was drinking Ribena (what is that?)

                                             With Betty Fisher (don’t know her) in Parker’s Piece

                                                 listening to Bob Dylan

"“The Man Who Takes the Parrish Shopping”

is one of his songs"

Betty says.

Sounds like his

but fuck you Betty, I disagree.

“Text me some memories” is a song of my own

I am still writing

it’s not going well

 mainly because

I am always furiously masturbating

due to a book I read

in Tokyo, second floor

always procrastinating

researching “wifebeaters” on wiki

instead of writing this

“This is the end” said Morrison, Jimmy (hehe, it rhymes)