The Shit of Adim Witt

A squirrel bouncing from tree to tree
	On a fall day
Could be written a thousand ways.

Am I depressed?
	Undersexed?
	     Have I just smoked some meth?

Am I outside?
	       Frost on soles?
	             Or am I in the upstairs john, hungover, watching it through a little dusty  window…
    
Whilst 
           I take 
                   a long,
                              plashing, 
                                          satisfying 
                                                            piss?