Le nouvel An !
It is but a facet
to trigger my drapetomania
at its optimum level
Which is why
have i ended up
wrecking others property..
Smacking poles.
Getting rib cage broken.
Earning stitches.
Slumbering on the streets..
This very day.
And undergo post – Myalgia
For long. After.
not it is..
the excitment for the pristine year
an ache much to live
This another day off stale earth revolution
And no fucking resolutions
myan they depress me.
Commitments sickens me.
Good were those days
When my friends were on loose.
Raw. Crude .
Still naive.
Still landlocked.
When we could tour the public house neighbourhoods..
sozzled and dazed
Just to bump into
known visages..
Unco faces..
And swap hugs And shakes
And bottles and buds and cigarettes.
How now the hoods have become a daylight robbery
The ingress have become more expensive than the drinks there
And the drinks..
more than my pocket money.
We ALWAYS. somehow .
get an excess to few of them places
Where there are these girls..
In thier fine dresses
With trimmed legs
And flat bellies
Killing the winter coldness with thier bodies.
Where there are these mens..
Wallowing on bar tools
With thick wallets
Tossing away the papers thier father  earned..
Tyingta proove how suitably fuckable they are.
Where there are these pairs…
Embracing thier lovers
With steady hoax squads
clicking foods.
Flicking glasses.
Plunging to live only once.
There are these peoples ..
The few ones..
The Outcast . The wild and cold
With supermarket vodka bottles
under their coat
To refill The OTT rock
Desperate to get drunk.
The ones who are there..
Just To keep the legacy going
Just to behold the band play
Some of thier old songs..
euphoric and
Just to saunter down the golden streets..
Blurry eyed.
No thoughts.
No fear.
No pain.
No rage.
With nothing in mind.
Passing out blank
Waking up..
to remember nothing.

Oh how the occasions have always been an inebriate excuse for me.
It always has.


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