Isn’t it funny how hundreds of years later
We scrutinize writings for hidden levels of meaning
When we know quite well
The author may have written parts
Whilst squatted over a pot in an opium haze
Trying to squeeze out four days of regret?
Do you think they will do the same to us?
Am I a writer?
Any good?
Well, to be seen yet, I suppose.
Laughs and Lobotomies 