Coffee.
What would I do without you?

This senseless chatter weighs me down
as in undertow under bla bla bla 

It's all about what is being done now and what will happen later,
not knowing whether I'll care still or I'll care less.

As things are this week,
I'll probably care less -
not even accents get to me anymore.

Say, did you know you do not get through to me either? 
I'd rather stare at a page.
Blank or otherwie.
Preferably stained, with marks of previous fingers.
Although I do not currently understand history,
I'd rather hold it more often than not.
Pretense can get you far, it seems. 

No, you may not ask my opinion.
I do not wish to share my points
and you should not have to listen.

Call yourself.

Forget my wire.

Let my feet be crows
and the ground my heavens.

Is my telescope here yet?