red stains
devil’s horns
reborn
in claret
plonk
no fancy moniker required
you are mired
in the juice
and loving it
til
palpitations
recriminations
resolutions
quashing dissolution
absolution
one solution
it won’t happen
you ain’t got the stomach
for the fight
say your prayers
goodnight.
the morning paper downloads in a flash the morning what? tiny line bleeds straight across my tablet and in seconds voilà all is revealed...
on the numbers and the stars and she is back in dreamland on the lotto on the ‘scopes pumped with false hope and fingers crossed and...
hope drifts in like fog a whisper a suggestion of a maybe on a Saturday in the morning when the tank is dry bank balance said goodbye to...
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