Bodies lay scattered, almost lifeless
A minefield of sun worshipers
Nonsensical murmurs do little than add a hum to the air…
BOOM!
The roaring sun acts as an amplifier to his plastic ball
He only has two friends in the world
Alcohol and that yellow plastic ball
BOOM!
Restless he knows not what to do, but
To aimlessly kick the ball repeatedly into the air
A childlike cry for attention
He gets it
His immediate contentment nearly as loud as the ball
His innate Scouse accent made harsher
With several days alcohol on his breath
“I’m still drunk” he keeps bellowing,
In between amazement at the skill of his playmate
Annoying to all of the suns corpses
Yet impossible not to watch
Soon he has to leave
But not before
Complementing all the girls on being “gorgeous”
And declaring Liverpool as “the greatest team in the world”
I watch him hesitate by a bin
He moves on.
Bodies lay scattered, almost lifeless
A minefield of sun worshipers
Nonsensical murmurs do little than add a hum to the air…
BOOM!
He’s fucking back
Kicking that god damn plastic ball into the air
His former playmates get up and leave
He’s not worth the hassle
He sits alone
His only friends the thought of alcohol and his plastic ball
A white Rasta appears with a guitar
Fake Bob Marley consumes the air
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP!
If it’s not his ball it’s his fucking hands
He’s a chancer
He has the certain charm of an alcoholic
And doors are opening up
A couple walk by with a bag full of cans,
Inviting the Rasta and his guitar to join them
“I’ll ave one if ya got one goin like?” shouts the Scouser
They nod
He’s in
This evening he’ll have a good time.
I watch as he shakes hands with his new friends
Not doubt complementing the two girls on being “gorgeous”
He’s meant to be going home in three days
The bottle is lifted to his lips
I have my doubts that he’ll make it.
'Life's a shit and so am I' 