He’s filthy
and he has
a bottle of vodka
and a greyhound.
His face is like
a bearded broken mirror
and his silver bitch
is magnificent.
When I look at him
I feel pity.
Pity for myself
that I have to be here,
with the soiled ones
who leer as I go
to buy bread
and cigarettes
even though I’m trying to quit.
Pity that I have live
amongst this shit
and look at gums
where teeth should be
and everything sounds
like a fight
whether it is or not.
He swigs from his vodka bottle,
looks at it
like I look at him
and we both shudder.
6 comments:
this is beautiful. poignant and mysterious and chilly at the same time. wish i could write like this :)
I think I know him!
Good to see you back! :¬)
xxx
Thank you, I appreciate that.
Hi Map! Good to see you :)
She's back! yay!
Glad to see your blog back on my followers box! How honest this is, like many of the other things you write.
"Room 102" has been included in this weeks Sites To See. I hope this helps to attract many new visitors here.
http://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2011/09/sites-to-see_23.html
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