HERE MATE!
HERE MATE!
YOU IN THE GREY CAP!
The drunk I had just walked passed
Was shouting at me
Stupidly I stopped walking and turn around
He walked beside each other.
He was slightly stopped and ghosted looking
Brown smears of tobacco on the edge of his lips.
I was standing tall. He started into conversation…
‘I’m 35…and your young…but we could live till 60 70 80…’
‘We’ve both got a long way to go.’ I say ‘We’ve got time.’
‘Yeah he agrees….we do have time…’
‘Are you gay?’ He asks quite naturally.
Shit! Can he tell? How does he know?
Does it show in my walk, my gait, my clothes,
my face…?
‘No I say…I’m not…Does I seem like I might be?’
‘No’ he says…
‘But I am gay…that’s what keeps me healthy…’
I begin to feel a tad uneasy. This guy looks pretty oddball.
Its early evening in Glasgow: it’s not late enough to be raped.
Shit, I think! = is this guy going to rape me, drag me down an alley
and sodomise between my perfect milk white buttocks.
‘But mate’ he continues… ‘If my girlfriend finds out she’ll batter fuck out of me!’
I am taken aback by his irrational honesty
either that
or his total bullshit
Well I say ‘Keep it on the Q.T. mate’ by which I mean keep it quiet.
I started to walk across the other side of the road.
I say to him: ‘Take it easy mate. Live long…’
He shouts back at me: ‘Live long and prosper.’
We would never see each other again.
And he was some kind of intuitive street drunk type
that said things to me. that made me certain in
my overblown way that my destiny
was with the people. with the words. and with the
untold lives that all secrets hold.