2. Mar, 2016

Wrong

I staggered down the road looking for skirt
I’ve had my drink now time for dessert
Bouncing off walls, falling about
Eyes going funny about to conk out

I get to the door and fall flat on my face
Staggering around all over the place
The velvet seats and the strange décor
I sat myself down waiting for whore

The man at the desk said “what do you want?”
I looked at him trying to be nonchalant
My eyes were rolling, I couldn’t sit still
My body was moving of its own freewill

“I want a woman get them on display”
“ But sir, you’re in the Bengal Indian Takeaway.”


Copyright © Graeme Taylor 2013

GT