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.
- RT @JoeOrtonWriter: Joe Orton fans pls RT Free event, free badge @KathyBurke @bendanielsss @russelltovey @TheWriterOfPain @ArfurSmith https… 3 weeks ago
- Lot of ants on the work surfaces this morning: like Salvador Dali's kitchen down there #antmuseli 1 year ago
- @LizziePepys Hello Mrs P, l've been away for a while. What's been occuring back the 17th century? 1 year ago
- House fire 2 doors down last night: got evacuated. Was most worried about 5 grand's worth of vinyl melting into nothingness #recordssafe 1 year ago
- @Joel_Hughes not a Queen fan, but I enjoyed this theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2… 1 year ago