Sex, Drugs and Poetry...
So last night it was poetry night. I've gone on about poetry night before. However I don't think anything entirely prepared us for what events this night would contain. I got home at about half past ten on Monday morning, only to see Andy twitching about on Tom's bed. A pint at lunchtime and Tom was chewing his arm. It was going to be one of those days.
Let's put it like this. Drugs and poetry really really don't mix. I was fifth in the line-up. Many people were there. Andy (making bitter cynical comments from the balcony.. he really doesn't like poetry). Little Tom with his head in his hands. Tay excited about Leffy. Anna sporting bus inflicted wounds. Sam with newly shaved head and tight black vest. Anna and Victoria with a shoe box full of beer, and Rosanne with the former contents on her feet. Et Ketera. Many others. So up I go, and I perform a poem about flowers and one about generes. They go down pretty well. Most chuffed. I think this is where I made my first mistake because about five minutes later, I go out on the balcony, and Andy offers me this massive line of recreational horse tranquiliser that he's prepared on some kind of newspaper. Like a fool, I don't consider this a foolish thing to do. Dear god.
More poets go on, I might have a poem in Latest 7 magazine but I really need to do something about that, and then suddenly I become really confused. Darn. And then, to cap it all off, they announce that I've won. Somehow I find myself going up to the microphone for some kind of twisted acceptance speech. Now this isn't usually the norm. In fact, I don't think they ever really have acceptance speeches. This doesn't stop me muttering incoherently into the microphone at the bemused audience, who are probably at this point thinking; "How the devil did this guy win". Deary deary me.
Jed passes on one of his jogs to see Tom and Andy and Daniel and Tom sitting around in the North Laine with a CD case and more lines of horse drugs. Havoc. Poetry. All sloshing around all over the place.
We go back to the party but somehow me and Anna end up on the roof of the Children's Hospital. It's quite traumatic climbing a fire escape in a state of confusion. Not to mention dangerous. What the devil were we thinking?
So back to the party where Andy becomes some kind of thrusting Frank Black and I pretend to be a rabbi.
Let's put it like this. Drugs and poetry really really don't mix. I was fifth in the line-up. Many people were there. Andy (making bitter cynical comments from the balcony.. he really doesn't like poetry). Little Tom with his head in his hands. Tay excited about Leffy. Anna sporting bus inflicted wounds. Sam with newly shaved head and tight black vest. Anna and Victoria with a shoe box full of beer, and Rosanne with the former contents on her feet. Et Ketera. Many others. So up I go, and I perform a poem about flowers and one about generes. They go down pretty well. Most chuffed. I think this is where I made my first mistake because about five minutes later, I go out on the balcony, and Andy offers me this massive line of recreational horse tranquiliser that he's prepared on some kind of newspaper. Like a fool, I don't consider this a foolish thing to do. Dear god.
More poets go on, I might have a poem in Latest 7 magazine but I really need to do something about that, and then suddenly I become really confused. Darn. And then, to cap it all off, they announce that I've won. Somehow I find myself going up to the microphone for some kind of twisted acceptance speech. Now this isn't usually the norm. In fact, I don't think they ever really have acceptance speeches. This doesn't stop me muttering incoherently into the microphone at the bemused audience, who are probably at this point thinking; "How the devil did this guy win". Deary deary me.
Jed passes on one of his jogs to see Tom and Andy and Daniel and Tom sitting around in the North Laine with a CD case and more lines of horse drugs. Havoc. Poetry. All sloshing around all over the place.
We go back to the party but somehow me and Anna end up on the roof of the Children's Hospital. It's quite traumatic climbing a fire escape in a state of confusion. Not to mention dangerous. What the devil were we thinking?
So back to the party where Andy becomes some kind of thrusting Frank Black and I pretend to be a rabbi.
posted by Rufus Moonshine at 3:54 AM
1 Comments:
God yeah that night was pretty mad. I think tonight might go the same way. Someones ordered grams of this and grams of that. Crazy. Take care. Missed you this weekend. Andy.
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