Bitter Meeting New Like…

He tells me loads.
I listen a plenty–
I say that I need to go home–
He asks why–
I mention that I’m kinda skinny on the ‘ol cashola–
That Sydney is raping me.
It costs a lot.
I’m working loads
I’m doing my best– but, you know–
It’s a jungle out there.
Plus I’m sad.
Today has been long.
Hard.
Life is long.
It really is.
He throws his head back and laughs
says he could imagine having any sort of conversation with me for a century–
We chuckle as we laugh our way back to a mates place.
Words.
Connections.
“I’ve had such a lousy day” I bemoan–
“I can tell.
I can tell.”
We talk and talk and talk and note there are fewer bats about tonight.
He has a lot to say about quantum physics.
I ask him if he can nab me a ticket to Brett Easton Ellis tomorrow night.
He says he can.
He says he can.

As the evening progresses– we both admit
boys are way better at rolling joints
at playing guitars
and you know…
some other stuff–

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Comments
2 Responses to “Bitter Meeting New Like…”
  1. Mark Bligh says:

    I still check closets for Narnia.

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