POETRY: YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO LET WINE BREATHE… BOLLOCKS! BY PAUL TRISTRAM

I pushed the cork into the first bottle

with the handle-end of a switchblade

walking out through the Spar Shops in door.

Swallowing three glasses in two mouthfuls

then wiping my blood red lips upon

my ‘seen it all before’ Pirate sleeve.

Zigzagged down the straight and narrow

whilst walking across the grass

and I was just too busy being Great and Fantastic

to even think about shutting the gate behind myself.

I fed the animals in the park empathy,

I stick my middle finger up at convention.

Then I disappeared just when I was expected,

frustrating…yes…but boring…never

and with no Shepherd leading me anywhere.

Written by Paul Tristram

Available to buy via Lulu