And this pub like a snakehouse
Hot wet to make you drink more
The scaley bar from propping
The rough hands of the cider kings
Cocks are long sleepy tails
Or hard as sharp bronze pins
The slack-papped, vicious-nude
And pink ham-breasted women
Eternally waiting for that next drink
Suddenly I’m not so thirsty anymore
My thistle throat is done
So goodnight cold blooded
Blue eyed blonde reptiles
Goodnight mobile man jaws
Enveloping entire pint glasses
I shed my skin and fix the memory
And open the door down to the pits
