Monday, 24 September 2018

It All Smells of Scotch

‘And you know why it rains all the time?
2nd worst in the country’
Says the late night
Youth hostel fella
Over his botched job
Of court holding
With his beer and
His beard in his socks

As you don’t get why the long legs
Love the light so much
There’s nothing in it for them
There is not
And it all smells of scotch
The grass the damp tab ends
The blisters
Smell of scotch
The foot ointment
The beard you never wanted
The socks
The bag
The flap
All smell
Of scotch
The rain
Is single malt

The morning turnout we realise
The queuing rudeness in his eye
Looks like scotch
And the breakfast
YHA know it alls with their
High-tech routes
And cock-sure non-stops
Couldn’t even spell the word
And while you ask a simple
Over eggs
They pour a double knowledge
Down your neck
Without even fucking
Asking
Lycra cyclists
At least they smile
So you repair to them
Their loneliness
With a raised glass
And the shower pubicles
In toenails
Spell out scotch
And the boot squelch
Steps to the ooze of it
And the corners of your outdoor mouth
Feel like scotch
And then you climb
Over
And up
And over
And you see that
Eversmooth body
Of Viking water
And you add
A drop or two of
To your scotch
And it smells of sense

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