My browser, it is throbbing -
and I'm not on Pornhub.
My internet disconnected -
And my poetry's a snub.

Or something like that.
It's somewhere over there.
No, wait. No wait.
That's just my chair.

I'm looking for a reason.
A reason is something.
A reason, just a reason,
A good reason for me to SING!

Pride comes before a fall,
or so I thought it said.
I thought my thought was clever
when it was inside my head.

Oh wow! My feet are far away,
How did I get them there?
I think I thought of walking
when I got up out of the chair. 

But the floor, it has gone sideways,
the ceiling's much too tall,
and I've just discovered
that pride comes before—

oh.

Fuck.