Boozing Buddies
Scabby Dave
Scrofulous,
Adhering to his beard
The froth.
A skeletal rock monster
On his back,
He looks like that.
Lance
Telling me he is going to open a boutique in London
in his rags.
A fishing rod for a walking stick,
Then when that got nicked;
A branch.
Ged
Drinks and drinks
And thinks he’s Clint –
(the Stetson over his face),
In front of the open fire,
Mumbling to himself.
Sometimes I see him –
Striding over the plain
(over the waste ground)
On his way home,
The man with no name.
Recently though a change –
Sporting cane (silver-topped),
A watch-chain hanging,
His new black jacket,
Hey! I've got it! Doc Holliday.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Acid
Karl
Early one morning (on the guitar
took an acid tab aged twenty
twenty five years later
threw himself under a car) just
As the sun was rising…
Joe
He could play
A nice action
I would say.
Slung high
On his chest
Fingering the frets.
Tipped for the top
And he did it –
Topped himself.
In that room
His big break,
A broken neck.
* James Morris: “I work as an English teacher in Thailand. I looked round the Teacher's Room today and thought… Rejects from the West, a failure Fest.”
