Some **** from Preston

It is blistering my ears

high-pitched pig squeals

and then moth bitten hands

clasp beer and belly

and bumble like bees

smoke-clogged

and tarred, or barred?

down on her knees

giggle or grunt

at forgotten women

or not so much

forgotten

but beginning to forget

with each sip and peck

at pint and pie

like pigeon and fly

she is distant

and disgraced

so he can

have a good night.

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