A girls arm slides across my back and for a moment, I’m spinning like a kid, sherbet crazed.
All I had done was listened, Drink did the rest I guess, Listened to her Thatcher charged rant, Somehow, innocent, spewed though lipstick rouged cleft lip!
She a plunging sparrow, Befuddled on tequila, Diving at a mouse marked with Brut.
I’m hers, A hooded, unloved, forlorn, lonely mouse.