Softly sleepy,
I wander briefly
Down the streets
Of my youth,
Counting teeth,
Pointing at
Beech trees
And deserving
Some truth,
Receiving only
What's hidden
Underneath.
Swiftly I switch
Between
Feeling new
And being used.
The latter feels right,
Because so far tonight
I've got nothing to lose.
So I swishily swig
My bottle
Of *****,
And slippily saunter
Back to
The News,
To see all
My boys
Sweat out
Their blues.
Strung out
And cool,
Swaggily staggering
From stool
To stool,
Nightclub girls
Can be so cruel.
I happily exhibit
My penchant
For drool,
And as it
Dribbles down
My chin,
I scream
"Baby, I've been
Drinking with
Some friends,"
And collapse
In a pool
Of cigarette
Ends.