PUB
HILL BENCH
BEFORE INTERWEB
well
we was only going out
for beers and shots
and
no
offence at all
to
the luxurious charms
of
the bigger lady
but
the
dozen or so abandoned porn mags
left
on the pub hill bench 199?
were
folded open to the stars
like
some weird offering
to
a chauvinist feeder moon
no
art in angle or lighting
they
were
titled
crudely
Fat
and Slack
and
under the pubs low ceiling
we
drank to these women
and
their strange sacrifice
among
a
hundred
other
toasts
to
all
the other odd and lost
exploitation
niches
NY
HOTEL BARS
plaques
listed
past
glory big name bar rats
who
sozzled
here in cool gone days
and
fucked
up in deep chairs
we
laughed
laughed laughed
at
the mad expanse
of
booze to choose from
missing the simple choices
of
englands
city-corner
one-scotch
philistines
we
made the best of it
we worked thru all their gins
gurning
on fat ice
stirrers
and napkins
piling up on the table
like
no one would believe
back
home
LONDON
MEMORIES 1
coming
out
of
a
bar
hidden
down
fifty feet
of
pissy alley
heat
from its
industrial brazier
dried out my face
i
find
its
PM
still
isnt
it ?
and
. . . leicester square ?
LONDON
MEMORIES 2
looking
for
another
dark bar
i wonder why i left the last one
then
i remember
it
had
weird booths
of
wood and iron
with
locks on all the doors
TRAIL
i
leave
fingerprints
on brass poles
i
leave dna
in the cold
back room pissers
we buy drinks by the tray
we wonder if we have found heaven
or
at least a place . . .
a
drinking bubble isnt it ?
long
may it last
amen
pic from smokealondonpeculiar.co.uk
