PARTY, PART 18

so,

i lock this hotel room door

staring

nearly content!?  or very drunk;

the 

difference is millimetres and lice

staring at the baggy saggy blister wallpaper - sitcom brown

and 

it

fits this mood 

like gloves/like snakeskin

i reminisce 

the last hours from this tiny hotel stool

like

already

they're

sepia grandchildren yarns

Kings Cross is a finger tip away-

i read the sign out loud

KINGS CROSS

KINGS CROSS

KINGS CROSS

i point to it/say - A PLACE ON EARTH!

and 

i TALKED Out There/in crowded wildernesses/in the heart of PARTY

in 

nice clothes too small

shirt tight on my forearms

ragged red stripe on my head

and someone says - wasn’t it your bday?

and i say - 3? is knackering but it will only last a year

she says - [a laugh] wot you do?

i say - drank absinthe at noon in St. James park 

threw pebbles at the pigeons 

then cinema or a theatre/something . . . 

i remember the stairs got harder and harder 

and i fell over red ropes . . . 

and she says - well belated cangrats 

i was drunk and shouty/bit spitty/but smiley

and

lord

i am drunk now/like Moses i feel; ancient and important

and righteously indignant

as

my

ink

runs totally dry