Grumble grumble grumble,
Grumble grumble grumble,
Grumble grumble grumble,

Grumble grumble grumble,
Grumble grumble grumble, bang.

One Two Three Four

‘On my demise they’ll disavow me,’ he said.
‘All the things I believe, they will be the reasons for my demise. They will bring succor to the undemised. The warm wrap of cloth a child clings to at night. For if I am demised, and their limbs still move, logically are they not right? In God, in man…’
’One, two, three, four and fuck ’em all,’ she said, the cigarette burnt down almost to her lips.

1989

And she said, ‘Darling,
every time I have a drink
I decide I want to kill myself.
That’s why I drink so much.’

AN Grace

Twitter: @isthisboring