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 Tom made me laugh here youtube.com/watch?v=lXhMTO… 4 hours ago
- Just saw a man shrieking at a wall-mounted bin #Paris 5 days ago
- And under thy symphonic fingers my strings shalt be scrap'd into sounds that strike the spheres with honey'd violence #ShaxpersBones 1 month ago
- Betrayal by @realjahwobble blasting out here in the French rural outback #JahWobble 1 month ago
- Ken's incipient Shakespeare heist and incoming infant ordeal battled for terrain within the pulsing parameters of his brain #ShaxpersBones. 1 month ago