I was once sick outside the Glasgow Cathedral
Moonlight filters into my mouth
I taste stars and talk utter shit
Liquid loveliness: all good poets
Have a vice, don’t they?
‘The Sunday Scarys’. What was I saying
Observe the Sabbath from the duvet,
Pray I hope nobody saw that Insta story
I shouldn’t mix tequila and Chardonnay
When its not long afternoon, I’ll rise
And the vertical regret takes on a blur
It comes with a hot groan, the ill shakes
Loose metronome pulse making its way to your ears
Before the purge and the porcelain,
The grout and cracked tile make patterns of my skin
Reconcile the white with the new bruise
Before the letters light-up green: green as prohibition
Buchanan green, bile-slick ketamine street green
Whose out tonight? Fancy a bev?
Say, Union at 9pm?
Like Humpty, and his ten green bottles on the wall
We’ll fall off the wagon for it all over again