So good looking

You are so good looking I can hardly take my eyes off you. So good looking. Your hair is good looking, your eyebrows so good looking, your mouth, oh, your mouth, so good looking, your elbows, the tip of your nose, so good looking. You are so good looking. your lips, so good looking, your ear lobes so so good looking, the back of your neck so so so good looking, your fingernails, so so so so good looking. You are good looking. So good looking. So so good looking. I think I love you.

What to do with myself

I don't know what to do with myself. I am sitting here, not knowing what to do with myself. I am feeling restless and a little lonely. Not because I don't have friends or love, or because my family is miles away and my sister never calls and the beef bourguignon was a bit too dry and the potatoes a bit too thick, but because I don't know what to do with myself.



I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know what to do with the early mornings, the radio which keeps falling in the middle of the night, with all the recipes I do not know and I will never be able to memorise. I do not know what to do with myself. What to do with my guilt for being here, for having a house with a garden, a cat named Veronica and a rug from Peru. I do not know what to do with myself. What to do with feeling restless, feeling angry, feeling over the moon. Feeling that this is my life and I do not live it because I do not know what to do with myself. I do not know what to do with my parents, the external examiner's report, the UCU strike, a degree in Japanese Language, extra dimensions, temporal arteritis.

I do not know what to do with my cash, when I am bored, about orphaned animals and the wildlife. I don't know what to do with the feeling that I want to be a man, so that I can comfort a woman in my arms and say that it will be ok. And perhaps that woman is me, not knowing what to do with myself.

I don't know what to do about this concert on Wednesday, what to wear, how to make sure I do not fart. Don't know what to do about my helmet, my lousy ovaries, the fat cat that keeps shitting in my garden, my doctor who wears pink.

I don't know what to do with the mince meat, whether I should season it before cooking or after, when do the onions come in and if I should clap when they do.

I don't know what to do with 115.293 results of not knowing what to do with myself on google. And finally, I don't know what to do with short hair, leftover chicken, egg yolks and daffodils after flowering. But I suppose there is time to talk about those things and figure it out. And you are here, which is always nice. Thank you.