Saturday 5 April 2014

BREAKDOWNS REALLY


saturday night london basement
escaped mothers dance like strippers with staring fakesters
and me
i’m moody drunk and high
staring down at the kickers and box fresh converse
some nobody saying
IT AINT ALL BAD YOU KNOW
to my dead face of whisky misery-thunder
and
then
cab rolls us south in silence
and it is like magnets – our hands
i can’t not – tho i shouldnt
and its ok - i think i am helping you
and anyway we’re all having breakdowns really
and then we’re drinking more
under the heathrow flight paths
and you fall asleep on me
i got one arm to drink with – reach for the valium with
and i wake you at dawn
for drunkards breakfast
of
coffee
unfinished toast
cigarettes
and
i leave with no job and half the bus fare
and really i wasn’t helping at all
cos
we’re
all

having breakdowns really




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