Thursday, 18 October 2012


my teenage.
I kick office doors through on my walk home to my Carnaby street basement.
Boot the locks through.
I sleep in alley ways,naked but for shorts in Summertime.
My shoes fuck knows get lost.
I get carried home from the Brain,the Wag after smoking hash.
I see the room falling away.
I can't lift my head.
I sleep where i fall.Always.
I wake on Sunday mornings.
Without keys and money.
On brick paving.
I wake to brick paving.
Piss Alleys.
I wake on cardboard.baking sun beating down on my death thirst.
Next to real tramps and rats.
To tourists staring.
I wake the landlords and pub managers for a tenner to see me through.
Pubs shut on Sundays.
I am 17

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