What do poets write?

What do poets write?
In the pub.
Dossing.
Pulling a sickie off work.
You got a medical cert
From Dr. Susan
And went for a few pints.
Non-alcoholic of course
Because you can’t drink
With your meds.
You might be slightly high.
Maybe you have schizo-affective
Bipolar disorder.
That’s a combination of two conditions;
Schizophrenia and Bipolar.
Totally mad.
You can’t even drive
Due to ruminations.
‘What a boy you are?’
Said the girls
In the pub.
Maybe I should come out
And tell people the truth.
I wonder would a woman shift me
If I showed her my copy?
Sweet lips
On her fingertips,
Kissing tips of lips.
Should she cry
Or go public on social media about it.
‘Girlfriend would suit me,’
Said the poet.
And that’s what poets write in the pub

I wish I could get published

Fuck the world
For rejecting my poetry submission.
I worked really hard at that book.
Nobody would publish it.
130 million books have been published
Since the invention of the
Gutenberg printing press in 1436.
Would one more book
Make that much difference?
I’m sure they’re trying to keep me down;
The authorities,
That is.
Do they think I’m the Antichrist
Because I wrote a few poems.
Fuck the system anyway
For rejecting my poems.
I wish I could get published.

If I could get the shift

If I could get the shift
I’d be happy then.
Millions of girls walking around
And I’m sitting here
In Cronin’s pub
By myself
Drinking beer, coffee and diet coke.
Why don’t they want to
Go down on all fours
And say ‘bow wow’ for me?
They do for all the other fellas.
Poetry is no joke.
Consider being crucified by the system,
Caught by the prick
And strung up
Outside the courthouse
By a judge and jury
Just for reading and writing.
You put your heart and soul into it
And get nothing but abuse in return.
No reward for poetry
Is the message they give
Loud and clear
I hear ya.
I’m gonna submit these three poems
Before I regret it and change my mind.