ramblings and things
The tattooed drunk with expensive shoes,
A desperate look of having nothing to lose,
Barracked me as I stood at the microphone
A near empty pub, glad he was on his own
One lone drunk is easy to quell
More than one can be a hell.
I finished my spot, went for a beer
Turned around and he was near.
He surveyed me with pin holed eyes
Then told me with anguished sighs
Alhough he looked young he was seventy two
Nano bots in his veins to make his body renew.
He said this was done to keep him alive
Because he was a spy for MI five.
He said there was danger In all he did
Then he tried to touch me for twenty quid.
I'm not quite sure what he’d been on
But if it was bottled he'd have made a bomb
We left him there mumbling away.
Sometime these charaters make your day,
And sometimes, and it could be worse,
They provide the fuel for dodgy verse.
At Pocklington Little Fest