working out a week later that all he wanted me

to do was leave all he wanted to do was

make me leave. sneaker meth authority.

bad dancing. lanky white cap rat face.

wanted to spit too. make people move.

whoever does not want to move. me

32 hrs after acid drop. ain’t moving. cost is

appearance but not interested in either. mental

block for back away. initial fear from smokers

balcony of undercover cop accusal comes back

to haunt. badge number to whatever pig hate i yell.

but still ask badge number. continued drinking second night

blind exuberance, intention of this place is a shouldered venom.

after everything i say, must still edge away

so slow plus stall backwards cause don’t want to get spat

on like i just saw rat face and mate do to someone a minute before.

above stairs get gently pushed in doors. favourite day

club insanity. nothing to do with me. did i say

something. chalky castor street malevolence. Westie

screech. was havin so much fun. Na just couldn’t stop well

lost. back dancing. no use in leaving. till he arrives and hauls

me up on dancefloor. hardly hear his expressive bewilderment

of job still to do. staring inevitable outcome. mucus covers return of

blankness like translucent mask. like the sunglasses i am missing, like this long

unimagined intention. pick beanie up from stand in front of speakers and very slowly

wipe it off. he screams you have to leave. no need for reply just as long as he doesn’t

touch me. and he does not want to fight.

sadness of extremity. joyous loss.