It was some kind of night-time circus down on the seafront. I crawled under the tarpaulin with my bottle of Thunderbird and sat in the sawdust watching the show. People doing African dances in dresses made out of oversized leaves. A bloke came and sat on the floor next to me; he had that sweet smell of long unlaundered clothes, BO, and cheap tobacco. When we finished the bottle he offered me a blowjob. I think I said “no”.
October 10, 2012
This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 10th, 2012 at 11:08 am and posted in New poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
- @Joel_Hughes not a Queen fan, but I enjoyed this theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2… 2 months ago
- @Joel_Hughes I was always tempted by crystal meth but now ... mirror.co.uk/news/world-new… 2 months ago
- @Joel_Hughes Yeah, but he chose to do it. And he doesn't like Lego: 'cos it's too expensive 2 months ago
- @Joel_Hughes I'm a Guardianista but isn't this the kind of article that turns people against the Guardian? theguardian.com/commentisfree/… #Guardian 2 months ago
- @Joel_Hughes cracking song this one: don't know how I'd never heard it before youtube.com/watch?v=cZ-xn_… #Elvis 2 months ago