Spit, Sawdust and The Farcicle Spaghetti Western
Last night within the spit and sawdust of..
The White Horse...(public house)
Swinging tail
Whilst I chose to sail
Far too... close to the wind, smiling at.
Friend foe and bartenders
As I dived need er ly
Within the whit/ering beer goggles
Of vodka and whatever...
I mean after all... after the shit day we'd had
Lost a home gained a flat, lost said flat..
Crap...
Homeless in two weeks
Yet in sane day
Finding another flat
Not bad but drat...wasn't exactly the hovel of my dreams
So
I chose to swim in vodka
Heaven
Not a care in the world until
I noticed two fellas brawling out of the mens toilets
And it was as beautiful as a contemporary ballet...
One had a dark shaved head
So I was gone
Smack bang
In the middle
As on the way through
I thought it was my man
Getting pummeled and pounded
And I could hardly just stand and watch
Between two fiery charged up men
I stood as punches past over and round
My head
I do
Believe my fists flew too
As my right hand hurts now.
But it was good honest fun
And I was dragged off by my man
A bit of spit sawdust and blood is as old as religion...
So ill hang my head in shame and smile at the floor...
poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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