I guess I'd write two poems.
Short Answer: Was going to say something snarky here and end it, but for some reason, I felt bad doing that today. I think the time I've spent on the radio recently is making me soft. Fuckers.
I write poetry at night
Uninterrupted by the swallow's song
or the dance of oppressive light
The pale glow and the shadow's scuffing along
that's wherein lies my tired muse
Past crickets, and in step with scurrying vermin
Before the ruination of holy, clouded perception
I tackle all the simple things
An Interrupted Walk
Bedecked by ancient farce
we pass the colonnades with
guises of desperation
expression soured again, again by stoicism
sturdy-blind and stalled in jest
Short Answer #2: Fuckers.