Gutter Crawl

Started with the thirst after work

Hard day dealing with circle jerkers

Manager breathing down my crack

Like a fifty-something twerker

“Where do you see this business?”

Pause for effect: “Moving forward?”

Douche bag I see this business

Moving forward up your arse

Just like every other teleological

Metaphor you can shove into your

Glib over-achieving orifices

So five came and I hit the pub

And I hit it motherfucking HARD

Not at first of course

These things build like a symphony

First the intro, where I greet the locals

Blind Bob and Snide Sue have taken

Their usual places and are well lubed

I heave a hoi and spy Derek the Dalek

So called because he speaks in a monotone

Hiding in the shadows with a pint

He’s hoping to keep out of sight

But I am not in the mood to be alone

He has a plan to fuck his way through Melways

Suburb by suburb, blowjob by blowjob

But when it comes to teenage sex slaves

I beg to differ and move away

Next comes the slow movement

Gloria of the lonely hearts brigade

With her white wine and lemonade

Who I’d fuck had I not the hots for her daughter

She drones on about how men are bastards

As the sun sets and sky darkens

And I nod knowingly, ignoring distant laughter

For the more beer I drink the more serious it gets

We are all here for a reason, all fucked by life

Not content to sit at home, be the vapid doctor’s wife

This place is our temple, our hall of justice

The finale fills the air

Wednesday Night Trivia starts

My chips come without mustard

It all gets a bit vague from there

I might have tried to kiss a Swedish backpacker

I might have tipped ash in Gloria’s hair

I might have thrown myself onto the pool table

And performed my impression of a dolphin

Chasing the cue ball into the centre pocket

Which was when the publican pulled me aside

And said “Go home. Your legless.”

He pushed me out a side door

With well wishes and a six pack

Where I hit the pavement knowing

Today had become tomorrow

And none of my problems had gone away

Disappearing down streets cold and dark

We are all of us in the gutter

And it’s so all-consuming that

None of us are looking at the stars

© shaun patrick green 2014