Obligatory Poem

It's done and it's late
and there's a job waiting in the morning
to robot my way through.

It's late and it's crazy
what nonsense I get myself into
when sleep should be the
logical choice.

There is, of course
my quota of nightly liquor
and the obligatory poem
about what I'm doing
which is precisely nothing.

There's the epiphany
life shaking realization
that I will promptly forget
in the morning.

Fretting over grades
I no longer have control over.

The wait for tomorrow night
when I finally get time with him.

Obsession over past acquaintances
and old friends, lovers, or a
combination of both.
What do they think
what are they doing
and why do I even care anymore.

I can't shut down.
I can't switch off.
I'm stuck in a loop
until I reach maximum drunkenness
and then the cycle starts again
tomorrow.