He was a dormant alpha male
He was the blind drummer
He was the star of EMPRICIO
A greek/roman-esque epic tragic tale
Set in a mythological/allegorical country.
Love so there’s no finger prints
(in) a drinking den of dubious worth
the rascal sat on the barstool
muttering to the object of his smothering
Rachel, you are my angel.
The beer of the new keg was reluctant to come through
It spurted
Then came out in a broken, thin jet
like a 6 am piss after a night on the pills.
I was just getting in to character – was about to go to a gig. And it was a date. I won’t lie – i liked the girl.
She was hot
and cool
and madly stylish
with the prettiest face, the loveliest dreads and the most exquisite laugh i had ever heard. And i think i realised that was true when i wrote that. At the time. In the pub. Having a Guinness. Trying to compose myself
For Five Minutes.
I might have to force down that sausage roll that was making me gag earlier.
I was shaking.
Was it the booze, tiredness, nerves?
And again I thought
I better eat, I don’t wanna be puking up bile later
Could taste the bass
Like too many fingers in my ear
Bass wave on the bonce
The barmaid was big but knew how to make the best of herself. She called me my love and my dear – nailing the warm barmaid character.
Hopefully I’d nail my character. But what was that?
Oh Christ
Get a pint of Guinness
And try and calm down
For Five Minutes
I heard a girl say ‘miwk’. I loved her immediately.
Oooh I said outloud. I was starting to feel a bit pissed.
An eeugh with a burr – a disgusted shiver
The place is cool as fuck in the purest sense.
The door was held open
by a bowl
of Soup
or Milk.
If beat was jazz, brutal is psych
Yeah but… there aint nothing like the novel.
Funnily enough my life hadn’t slotted into place by 2 o clock the following afternoon.
I made a series of bad choices culminating in
Horse riding banned for health and safety
Bad decisions coat you like an itchy blanket.
Sigmund Fraud Books 