The Concerns
‘You only seem happy or content
when you’re stoned or drunk
or both, all your waking hours
are consumed by this and of
course, sex’ she said sharply:
‘That may be’ I said:
‘But I’m a poet’
‘So that gives you a free
licence to be an alcoholic
drug taking bum whose
only concern is with his
own little seedy world’
‘I haven’t signed a
contract’ I answered:
‘Don’t call me, I mean
it this time, don’t call
me again’
the door opened and
slammed shut, the sun
had spent herself and I
opened a bottle of wine.
Brilliant.
*smiles wryly*
😁🖤
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