Stripping The Daisy [Intoxicated]

Elle M'aime... Elle Ne M'aime Pas [Even Though Her Name Temporarily Escapes Me]

I emerged, like some dishevelled drunken Lord,
from a dark and sleazy back lane…
punk-pogo-ing [dangerously] upon one foot,
whilst screaming [not singing]
‘Land Ho!’ by The Doors… to lurking Ghosts.
My ‘Property Of H.M.P.’ striped shirt
was all open in the front, every button missing
from an altercation half-hour or so earlier…
when I pinched a Bouncer’s cheek like a baby,
playfully, whilst slurring “aww, ain’t he cute.”
And there ‘She’ was, standing in the Square
… two steps away from a group of women
she was hands-down-completely ‘Outshining’.
I stumbled/swaggered my way towards her smile
… and reintroduced myself, with a flourish.
“Hello again.” she giggled… eyes impossible
to describe, or tear your giddy-gaze away from.
“I’ve still got your number, and just as soon as
you’ve stopped saving the entire World, sir…
or I see you two or three drinks slightly soberer,
I’m gonna ‘Target’ that ‘Charm’ right outta ya.”

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.