I drink drink
the glass political
I’m singing
the Alcohol electric
Seen as low
as piss in the snow
this delirious amber exit
I protest in
aged wooden bars
of hanging smoke-ghosts
where one pound
buys digital Rock
And later; water-raw
and livid of lobe
from the whisky-sticky
bottle top
With the broken seal
a necklace there
to play
and scratch my fingers
I shout out
madness primal
in brilliant drivel
lost in the
of a dozen stars
Freed from the angry
backbrain
yelling yelling
sane anguish
of hope
My liver is a river
the Rainbow Warrior
rides the
wash of
tankers touching
my tramp hull
I suck on the glass,
the tin,
the small steel
from the
activist pocket
always ready,
that comforting sag
I will drink/drink
today
I will leave myself
lost
to trot about
I potter soppy
- like homeless
but happy
I abandon choices
to look people in the eye
in the late
hour Turk shops
of wot I need
Another to pour,
to spill –
and another
No thought no thought,
glorious,
no bother
I don’t care
if this takes
all the night away
I care
if this
doesn’t
take all the night away
I say this
drink/drink
that I fucking love
Will carry me
speaking silent liver words
In a great NO
of a thousand turned backs
I; no participation
in this world
but of grapes and
chemical hops
No hands steadier
in this night
than these deft heavy
cranes of thirst
I wave to use
And the world/Portugal burns
And the world/politic turns
And the world melts –
poles,
lies and cries
and sinks
retreating
before time and drinks
I buy it
bring it
borrow it
devour it
like bitches
saying goodbye
And I say
excellent
to the corkscrew
gripped in
clear-tasked paws
And I say
outstanding
to the
half-bottle appearing
unexpected
greeted like a
nightshift Wisdom King
I toast junkies
and the wailing masses
ignorant and spastic
spending their plastic
I pay part-time
babies my wages
For the glass-held
protest of ages
I say drink now
Drink in their faces
Drink the booze electric
with sly eyed witness
Pay with these damp notes
here by the ashtray
Giving up
is a powerful thing to do,
is waiting
Of great thirst
either way,
both frightening
commitment to
the black holes
of heavy peppered
Or the eternal morning
where there are no smiles?
Give up drink/drink
Give up
to
drink/drink
The choices line your bars
and your Turk shops,
your mind,
clinking,
familiar and happy,
wet and burning
I have parachutes
to wash my teeth
from the great height
where I know the floor
I know the
water of yesterday
was the key to survive
I know the
desperate
cold cider rocks at five
And I know
the follow-ups
inevitable and
coming/coming
I say
pukka;another!
and pour it pour it pour it
I hold drink/drink
high
so you can’t ignore it
And all you
lame rulers
and temping conjurers
Will have to count
the masses
shouting/fighting
Cunted on the city streets
I say
the real danger
is the tuned minds
Drinking their time
right on the line
We are pale monks
burning
in the late streets
Walking
with the dozen stars
Witnesses
in another heaven
Watch all of us
after eleven
Waving our cupped fists
off my faced
Counting
my eggs in one basket
I pull the top
hissing
spitting
like a farting beer cobra
small metal head waking
I pop the top
bending
rending
the cobra open
for drinking
I screw the top
spinning
like a roundabout
and I am
swinging
I uncork
The Cork
popping
opening
the party and
fumigating
minds ill with living
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