EMPTY WEEKDAY AFTERNOON PUBS 199?

i'd
been hanging out with Dave
since he got 
a
license
and
an old green Cavalier 

it was knee deep 
in brown paper
take-away bags 
and
the
driving seat was broken and jammed in recline

i think he thought the mess made him cool
and
we
all
grew
our
hair

he
moved
to
Brighton for college

i
went
to visit


to do something
drunk
and easy
in
sea
air

i slept in the old uni halls
on
his
rough and dirty carpet 
with
jeans
folded up for a pillow 

light and noise coming in under the door

cold - itchy

turning cleaners away
in
the
disgusting early AM


people were reinventing themselves

making
up
new drug pasts

EVERYONE had spent the summer 
dealing speed and E's
to
bands
with impossible names

everyone
got uptight about j etiquette
and
hot-knife technique

arguing
with
the straight jocks and science bods
in shared kitchens
about noise
and
stolen food
and
fundamental political and lifestyle choices 


but Dave was still Dave
for a while longer

his room was ground floor
small bushes going autumn brown under the window
and
by
11 AM we'd had some weed
and
climb over the sill and laugh the five steps
to 
the 
back door of the union bar
and
we'd pour cider and cheap scotch
into our morning breath
and
rattle the Star Trek pin ball
till 
the cook turned up to fry lunch burgers
and limp onion 
with supermarket ketchup
and
ok
oven 
chips
in a fake basket
lined with fake newspaper


then
we'd dodge the train fare into town
and
shop
for
psychedelic vinyl
and
drink in empty weekday afternoon pubs

and i remember wishing then
that
i
could
spend my life in empty weekday afternoon pubs
drinking
and
looking at all the carved wood and dreaming


feeding 
pound nuggets
into the jukebox for Stones songs
and
racking
up
the
pool

from drinkingbrighton.co.uk