bad lieutenant had the greasy palm, sought soft fruit solace in an odd shaped bar. supped black sambuca - contracted boozers' arm. couldn't find way out of carrier bag. caught a tap on the chin from the bristol crow. grew to dislike soubriquet bestowed. reversed tartan, tripled vodka intake flow. couldn't find way out … Continue reading soubriquet.
Rib Nite 2 Pig Bill, usually a bear hug guy, comes over, shakes hand, shakes head. No bear hug, Pig Bill? The air fills with talcum. It follows him everywhere. He reckons it adds mystique to the place. Nothing doing, he says. What's this? Tickets for tomorrow's gig, he says. It's a no-goer. And, again, … Continue reading Moon, mentioned.
a bar room, on the east coast, crosslegged and picking notes, facing a hung crowd, torn between looking through them and staring them down - I am strung.