he knows my name has that much hold over me my over friendly beggar my demon in rags but when the bottle’s passed I never wipe the neck that’s a sign of disrespect and so the black wine passes from his lips to mine and his eyes are night and his smile is daylight and he has my undivided fascination I’m his puppet to lead to heaven to hell and other places you can’t find on maps
and downtown in the killing fields he makes my ghosts to dance that old man reeks of corruption I found him sleeping in fetid leaves in the woods in the damp dark season when decay rules and everything dies but death I met him in the pub one night ladling on the charisma buying everyone pints yeah I know him well he’s my mentor my guru my homeboy but we were never friends
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