Boozy Walk Home – Nari Sahukar

A Saturday nite

Like a vampire bite

Where the girls show a lot

Or a little.

At some middle distance

A siren swells

And a cigarette smolders

In spittle.

The wolves are out,  leering – 

Strike poses, and jeering,

Trade swigs with the swill

Of the evening.

While the chatter that spills

Down the clattering hills

Means the ‘civilised’ diners

Are leaving.

There’s a dancefloor for desperates

And Triad protectorates –

As the smoke, like a grin,

Curls and beckons.

An Adonis in white

Is stained red from a fight,

And he looks my way

Hungry for seconds.

So stumbling home

With a 2 am groan

At the moon, that appears

To be swimming –

I realise the poem

That rose in my head

Won’t make sense

To the dead, nor the living.