Chips and Cheese

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Chips and Cheese

Guzzle the Buckie…Spark a joint…Order soggy Chips and cheese

The late night clubs have opened their doors
To let the revellers spill out onto the street
With mayhem with wine filled bellies and madness
The streets fill with shouts, jives and crazed banter
The streets run through with a million ants falling over each other
A million smashed brains drunk on night time and the shortness of youth
And they drink to the shortness of life though they drink to the night
And the streets flow with piss and booze and smutty woman and angry men
And men who think they know it all and know very little and men who are
To angry to care about tomorrow or too hate filled to takedown their guard
And the women are large are thin are pretty with great self-conscious eyes and some are just as drunk as men and some argue using their handbags as fists or to put make up on while staring into some drunk window there are wets kisses and clumsy gropes and someone breaks a high heel there is laugher as the crowds pass
Shoals of birds tigers lambs and insects
All drinking in the Saturday night Zoo all dreaming of infinity and endless sex hoping to discover the perpetual dance of the spirit of the spirit of the spirit and escape to avoid dying young and some win and some loose and most wake up with a headache and most wake up lost and dried out and ready again for the Night Assault

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Some of them will wax with painful colors and youthful purpose in a corner table clutching diet coke as if it was absinthe, naming the chaos and etching out a phylum in the web of plasmic branding, a cardigan shell of genteel ferocity. (S)he too will yearn for immortality like a lemming yearns for a cliff.
A large fellow named Bob will drink to has dead dad, a man who died in a fire saving a black maid who secretly raped pale white bankers and ate cat food. How can we begin to hang a sign on anything.