Tasty Salt and Sticky Wet Wounds

Some summers ago surrounded
Spinning in a bar, sipping scotch
And soda, by
Spice soaked men talking sports
And sex
On the rocks I
Stopped for a short while to consider
What may or may not be
Special on
Our speck in space.

Boxing bashed by on the box below
The bottles of Bacardi
And Baileys, with blow by
Blow accounts being
Beaten about by those
Who bragged about being better
In a brawl.

In this concussive state
Conclusions or calculations were not
Completely easy to
Come by.

Decidely the best decision was
To draw another dollar
From my deeply drenched pockets
And drag another drink down
From the dapper dazed
Barman. 

It had been an easy earn
From my earnest equine racing
Employers and equally so,
An even easier equation was
To empty my entire pay envelope
Entirely on
Getting empty.

This is how horrid hangovers
Happen, how haunting hikes home
Happen, how hatchoo colds
Happen, how half eaten Halal kebabs
Happen, how the hell did I get here-s
Happen. How about another drink? Make it
Happen…

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