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.
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- @RhianEJones Excellent, really well written+put together. Wish it'd been longer. "Infinite slurry of Major years" 1 of many killer lines 8 hours ago
- @RhianEJones have just bought Clampdown after reading the Guardian review. Really looking forward to it #clampdown 4 days ago
- The sun's out at fucking last youtube.com/watch?v=HGDP24… 4 days ago
- @Tourisme_Creuse je peux traduire limousinenfamille en anglais. Refs: T. Péncaud l'OT Guéret/P.Stawicki l'OT Aubusson #traducteur #creuse 4 days ago
- @Joel_Hughes Now this extract definitely could be Alpha Papa http://t.co/6xGDgsLFpv 5 days ago