I know you want to talk
and you’ve spent a long night
full of dreams and ideas
and you think I’m good with words
because I am, I mean I can be
in the afternoons or evenings
but my dreams are muddled things
and often just thwarted attempts
to reconcile with lost loved ones
or make it to the end-of-year exams
(I can never find the classroom
and I haven’t studied at all and of course
I’m probably missing my shoes or worse)
and so love, it can sometimes take an hour
or more before I can hear your words
as actual words and your thoughts
as actual thoughts and darling I’m begging
you today and forever more,
because I will do my best
to say the right things nicely,
if you will please take care
to administer coffee to me first.

Day 11, write a warning poem.