Friday, 19 July 2013

Friday Night (About 10:30)

Some pretty skinny tall working-class lad
leaving the off-licence
off into town
with his girl friends.

I only really see him from behind
He walks just like my fondest boyfriend used to walk
He always walked ahead of me, too.
Shoulderblades whirring like motorblades.
So fine.

He was always also
Screeching
Strutting
Carrying on at the top of her voice.
"Who cares?"

God help any drunk straight lad who talks back to you
or gets in your way
when you're on your way
just out to have
fun

tonight.

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