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.