neon drunk mess

back in lectures and seminars; this means i will be posting work from my creative writing course again. spec this week was ‘microfiction’. for those of you that don’t know, microfiction is somewhere between poetry and prose, but both of those, at the same time. as such it’s a bit difficult to define…i’ve dabbled in it before but here is a recent piece. we’re moving onto poetry soon (eeeek!) so i’ll be posting some god awful poetry soon.


The wild neon of the night bleeds out into midnight streets, and crazy cats like you and I dance on the hot tin roofs of the gutter while passers by stumble forward sideways anyways in spiral shapes, and leave vomit graffiti on the walls. Up in the distance, the drunk choir of the taxi rank, pilgrims from places varied bargaining passage from this blurry scene, their song partially hidden by my ringing ears, my hearing damage. The girls in short dresses, bare shoulders and open cleavage stand shivering in the full moon cold, some wrapped around their man for the evening and they some of them hope he calls after the morning after, not like the others who left them naked, high and dry. A drunken fight breaks out – no-one knows why; fists and feet, arms and legs, go flying like in some crazy dance and before long the lurid blue of sirens colour the scene. On the pavement is someone’s blood.

Sometimes I just want to drink alone.


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