Now that I have seen that all that has been
A night of ritual split in two
Oh I may be married but I can’t have been keen
You see the woman who long to be whores
As long as it doesn’t cost them… Of course!
As I stair in to the mirror, sweat dripping from my for-head
Past my mouth down to my chin
The water congregates on my triumphant neck
Or is it my snatch at the youth that I regret?
Stroke the hair to the side… Jarvis Cocker?
No I can’t see that
Your way to rodent in your stride
A quivering celestial mad I cried.
“What the hell is mad” I said
As I lie awake - high on my bed
Cheers
Space worm
Just a poem for all the fucked up late night club goers who wish they had plenty of time before the had to face the crazy, harsh reality of another day in Shitsville. And by Shitsville I mean reality.
