A Surfeit of Bushmills
I’ve not always been me,
I used to be someone else
Lots of someone elses ,
Of course some parts are constant.
But the add ons
Like cruelty or love
Change,
Or are watered down,
Beefed up,
Even dispensed with.
You always retain the capability
To reinstate them but
Often not the interest,
For they are extreme emotions
And are tiring
Taking the whole of your being for their use,
And though I don’t regret
A single
Waitress
Bargirl
Or whore
I haven’t the patience any more.