lined pajama pants

i sat down to write you a poem.

needless to say, i did, because here it is, but i am not sure how i feel of its quality.

the problem, dear, is i had the television on,

and i also suffered from the hunger, slightly,

and have we discussed how my hands get cold easily this time of year?

poor circulation is my guess.

so, i wanted to write you a beautiful poem

and what happened is this little mish-mash of proesetry

written while i wear lined pajama pants on a Sunday night, in my living room,

one lamp on, the other off, because i plugged it into the wrong outlet a week ago and am too lazy to fix it.

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