Tuesday, 18 October 2011

Twirl Through Traffic

In wrong attire
Sink sky and me in
Hunting shorts
And bukowski t

Down Broadway in daylight
Eating banh mi with Dan
And you in the queue:
Leopard Hat, Coleman’s dress,
Unlaced red brogues

Sat on a covered seat
And proceded
And after a cold
and after a hot coffee
We walked through the back streets
Of Hackney and dropped him
At the Field

As we moved back to Mare St
The crowds came forward
And we opposite
In the setting and settling in
There was Guinness and prosecco
A champage bottle
And your foot knocked my leg

At a toilet break
I sat on your side
And we dived out
And hit the Dolphin

All the coins we scraped for
A cash only bar
To sit in the garden
Surrounded by kittens and bar backs

On again
This time as we went north
You stopped put my tongue in

For the final drinks
I dared you to dance
We took a 254 and stuffed
My Eccles cake
And interrupted the dick’s dinner

In mine you sized up
Where my head comes from
And I stuffed ‘Burning in Water’
Into your handbag

You got out of bed and danced off
Twirling past traffic.

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