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Poem

Leap off a Day

Leap off a day full of struggle and toil. 
Pleasure-power fuels freedom's few precious  
hours. Head for the cellar where solace is
found. Shoulder a way through the jostling crowd.
 
The thicket is wild and dense by the bar, 
winter-branch arms shedding autumn-leaf notes. 
Barmaids flick taught-aloof tails while they flit, 
ripping off balls with their sharp little tits. 

Machine-gunning speakers spray punters with 
rap. Call for ''strong-ale!'' Leave the lager for
louts. Survey, edge away from the wankers
and drunks. She's got mad-eyes. He's pushing tabs.

Ocean of faces polluted by booze. 
Snatches of voices wind-torn from the storm.
Crackhead is screaming about his bad hit.
Rodents are filling his skull full of shit.

Rhythm-girls bob up and down to the beat. 
The one called Desire has wings on her feet,
legs and white pants like a rose in full bloom.
the one in the crowd who lights up a room. 

Shouting and cursing and breaking of glass. 
Fun at the bar... stampeding, girls crying, 
chairs swinging, fists flying, then Exocet-
bottles-and-boots in an all-out attack. 

Faces exploding in fountains of blood. 
Shatter-glass windows ice-blue-psychedel;
game-beating police rousing quarry to
flight – any brace cooks-the-books for the night.

Scatter and panic, a jam at the door
as we tear and then pull and then kick and
butt heads, now dash for the street and the sweet
inky-black safety of swallowing night.
 
Find the fair-maid Desire, cute little sprite 
whose ignoble-knight offers Vindaloo- 
sauce –  plan for scalding her arse and covert-
ovens-of-love as we leap off a day.

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