I'll start by saying it was rather warm today, and that was nice.
Alas, it didn't compensate for having had to suffer hours
Of babble when I was at work, or that foul child's dreadful
Screaming here at home, which, shaken so, seems less like
Somewhere one would thrive than a most foul and painful
Prison. Daylight's grown too scarce to save. The clocks
Have been turned back. The mind has not, so I can't go
To bed. Instead, I drink to kill the time. I find some comfort
In the thought that I won't have to hear the babblers for
The following three days, and, if the weather remains warm,
Those days, too, may seem nice.