New Year's Eve Assart

38

Sorry about that this poem
is my apology for poetry
which like a doctor who
goes wild in the country
of love o doctor doctor
I am sick of the banks of england
& the novel
which like a doctor who
I fucked.
Then I changes in time for poetry.
To put it right by money counts
who bring with them supertrees
so I will count too
count to myself to two.