And so I shiver
In the cold chair
The radiator is stone cold
Yet I do have some warmth
From deep inside of me
Which presumably is generated
In the same way that the squirrel
Eats his nuts for energy
Stored throughout the winter
I drink warm tea
Surely that will stave off hypothermia
Yes, I do know that I am being melodramatic
But if don’t then who will
For haven’t you all
Got your own problems to deal with
Why should you care too too much about me
For this early rising poet
Isn’t it his own fault that he is cold
He could have stayed in his bed
In his warm, warm bed
Instead he feels the damp sensation
At the tip of his nostrils
Which whilst confirming that he is alive
Also it says something about the coldness
And isn’t that what the poet should do
Observe and record the nuances
Whilst everyone else, or most others
Are comfortably sleeping
