Karl Spitzweg The Nightwatchman fallen asleep |
As soon as you wake they come blundering in
Like puppies or importunate children;
What was landscape emerging from mist
Becomes at once a disordered garden.
And the mess they trail with them! Embarrassments,
Anger, lust, fear - in fact the whole pig-pen;
And who'll clean it up? No hope for sleep now -
Just heave yourself out, make the tea and give in.
Dick Davis
1945