Monday, 25 October 2010

Fat Chance

Checking my payload
And getting the bus from Old St
To the crossroads to fall
Asleep and end up
Past wood green
To some suburban stop

And I remember some young
Chick whose brother had been shanked
Showed us her tits and then bummed
A smoke off me as I sat at the bar
Of the Hoxton Hotel limning
On truth and beer on tab

Stuffed of hot beef
And slow cooked eggs
I ran away from morning breaking
Shaved and showered
And now....