Mary held me at knife point until I conceded to write another poxy tale from Shakesepare. Didn't dare refuse. Think she should learn to read the original, personally, not my fault she's uneducated. Mad bitch.

Don't know why everyone is so bothered about me boning Augusta. It's not like we grew up together or anything. That would be weird.

Had another vision today. Three more angels came and danced nymph-like and naked around a campfire in the fireplace whilst the sweep hung himself from a lamp-post. Didn't tell wife about this one. Thought she wouldn't like the hanging sweep.

I am poet laureate. Go me! Will now write about dead British heroes and piss everyone else off for living. Am great patriot.

PS: incest, incest, incest!

Fish window eating tree on yonder parliament with a partridge.
Bring the feather. Twelve onions dancing the polka in
National theatre very conservative. I'm not. Yes
I am. No I'm not. Off to India, get me the maitre'd.
It's raining in Africa. Been walking in Memphis. Walking
With my feet ten feet off of you. Yes I am!

Forgot the rest.

People are calling me arrogant and out of touch. How so?
Wandered alone for six hours by lake and woods today. Then went back to humble abode and wrote twelve million lines about lonely wanderings. It is epic. I am epic. Will be epic success.
Enough about me.
Let's talk about me.
I am awesome.