A fictional narrative illustrating the perils of ‘beer-goggles’
Must also include all ten of these words associated with ‘LOVE’
Desire time flushed cheeks and wine
a whisky or a gin, a thirst it grew,
but not for you, that
face gave me a grin.
desire time flushed cheeks more wine,
a whisky not a gin, on heels rock,
that ragged frock, this is where i will begin…
arms legs arse hips, porks pies and chips,
worn hands, worn face, new bag.
Stumped teeth of beige,
for only wine can age
I’d crossed the line a tad.
apology time, standing in line,
cheeks scorched of scarlet sin,
‘what would one want?’ rather non chalant
she pointed to her gin.
five whiskeys down, nor sigh or frown,
it’s going rather well, I thought it lame to
ask her name, we’ll just call her Michelle.
I hate to say, though mal portrait
I’m glad that we had met,
youth body had flown
her heart a stone though still not one regret.
Frantic no more, a date? a pour of whisky,
no more gin, a stumbling toad went down
the road with a princess or akin.
Desire time strange taste in wine,
no chance I’ll sink another,
a sober thought and now retort ,
she looked like someone’s brother.
Though on the floor, insisting more
a smell of burning sugar,
an emerald flash lit her moustache,
I sip the rancid blubber.
The mystic horse, with no remorse
tore off my clothes like paper,
for all the dread, my poisoned head
whirling dervish. rancid. vapour.
Desire time, sobering paradigm
for any riggish lover, a boisterous
haste had tickled my taste for
Michael. Michelle’s big brother.