flightless

I met a man

who was fighting 

his shadow

he was dull inside

and dead as a dodo

he spoke in tongues
strangely familiar
first languid
and then rabid
in a paralytic dialect
of mumbles and grunts
cunt was a drooler
a mewling loser
dredging an ocean
of heartfelt regrets
and bitter recriminations
he'd traded his allocated
ounce of solid soul
for the draught of oblivion
and I’ve seen his face before
in some distant mirror
but I don't know him
he's nothing to me
so show that bum the door

before he spills another drink

and then cries out for more

Loner

she had those absinthe eyes

set in a fragile waifish dial

she possessed a laddish wit

that always made me smile

we were never really lovers

but we fucked once in a while

.

no, we were drinking buddies

and were seldom sober

but we were never truly close

because at heart she was a loner

and I wonder what became of her

when our escapades were over

.

The Nice

I had long since

abandoned hope

of ever forging

a masonic

connection

but had made

quiet inroads

amidst the nice

I could never

be one though

dull as ditch water

the nice

even the messianic

shun the nice

besides

my mere presence

fucks with their feng shui

.

Menagerie

there was no miscalculating

it was the season of ill will

those fractious lovebirds

were broadcasting citywide

they were at the ding dong

with the usual diatribe

concerning love and validation

guerrilla tactics were involved

I had to shield my mind

from their carnal dredgings

and squirmed with embarrassment

when they mentioned my name

.

West End

the skag palaces
and liquor dungeons
of my youth
are now gastro pubs
and organic eateries
but the streets
are the same
there's a score
on every corner
flesh or drug
just name your tune
and some cunt
will dance to it
.