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.