It’s been a hard day but there’s no laws to say
That I can’t settle down with a gin
Late night R & R with an hour of TV
And then I will maybe turn in
The gin… that was easy, just spin that screw cap
Then tip up the bottle and pour
But what freaking demon has screwed G & T
It never was this hard before
This flaming recycling nonsense is mad
With screw caps that won’t separate
The cap and the bottle do not come apart
And boy does it make me irate
A one handed action to top up my glass
To sparkle and fizz as I sip
But that is no more because some lunatic
Decided he’d give me some gyp
Brute force is required to crack that first seal
But the cap simply won’t unattach
It sits in the flow and it will not let go
As it acts like a half open hatch
So now I need one hand to angle the bottle
Another to hold back the cap
It’s driving me nuts, I just want to relax
So much for this net zero crap
My bottle of tonic is sat in the cooler
But I settle down in my seat
The medics are worried about a big rise
In folk drinking alcohol neat.
Poem
Poet
They don’t always match
It is not exact
I mean, opposites attract
Every brand new batch
Of poems can detract
From the original, not intact
The idea that did hatch
May not become tact
The meaning now abstract
But I guess that is the catch
When you make a pact,
Or rather a devil’s contract
To somehow patch
The little compact
Of inspiration, from which you distract
Yourself from your detach
That cut you off mid act
You try to reenact
And reattach
Disregarding the fact
That you were the one to subtract
Actual creativity to snatch
At the chance to transact
Quality to make an impact
But it all went down the latch
I guess all it did was counteract
Your initial goal, inexact
From the world, you unattach
And live on in redact
With no one to interact
Forever to be a mismatch
Written on December 3, 2020