When you eat nothing but sugar
and sleep nothing but minutes
and dream nothing but scant scat porn
and this interminable act will not get off stage
it is difficult
to develop an inspiring
– and sincere –
compliment to offer
at the end of the evening.

My creativity has been leeched out
by the circumstances of the situation
or vice versa.
Did I mention I haven’t been drinking enough?
Dehydration may well
be part of the equation.

I cannot generate a single kind remark to provide
that proves I’ve been paying attention
and like what he’s been doing.
Should I dare honesty?
What artist wants to hear that?

I’ll have to come up with something.
Luckily, at this rate,
I’ll have an eternity
to come up with some word
so no rush.