Thursday, 1 October 2015

Leap off a Day

                  Leap off a Day

Leap off a day full of struggle and toil.
Pleasure-power fuels freedom's few precious 
hours. Head for the cellar where solace is
found. Shoulder a way through the jostling crowd.

The thicket is wild and dense by the bar,
winter-branch arms shedding autumn-leaf notes.
Barmaids flick taught-aloof tails while they flit,
ripping off balls with their sharp little tits.

Machine-gunning speakers spray punters with
rap. Call for ''strong-ale!'' Leave the lager for
louts. Survey, edge away from the wankers
and drunks. She's got mad-eyes. He's pushing tabs.

Ocean of faces polluted by booze.
Snatches of voices wind-torn from the storm.
Crackhead is screaming about his bad hit.
Rodents are filling his skull full of shit.

Rhythm-girls bob up and down to the beat.
The one called Desire has wings on her feet,
legs and white pants like a rose in full bloom,
the one in the crowd who lights up a room.

Shouting and cursing and breaking of glass.
Fun at the bar... stampeding, girls crying,
chairs swinging, fists flying, then Exocet-
bottles-and-boots in an all-out attack.

Faces exploding in fountains of blood.
Shatter-glass windows ice-blue-psychedel;
game-beating police rousing quarry to
flight – any brace cooks-the-books for the night.

Scatter and panic, a jam at the door
as we tear and then pull and then kick and
butt heads, now dash for the street and the sweet
inky-black safety of swallowing night.

Find the fair-maid Desire, cute little sprite
whose ignoble-knight offers Vindaloo-
sauce –  plan for scalding her arse and covert-
ovens-of-love as we leap off a day.

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