the before of a day at the races
possesses much less anything &
the intrigues of imagining it spans
the typos the cast-away beliefs.

i like to drink beer from plastic cups i
disagree with the pedagogic utterances
of just about anyone. i back a nag
& whistle away the loss at ten to one.

most times have something special
about them something i’ve learnt you
see you can pluck the gentle roll of a
blonde girl’s stomach from the miasma

of five hours standing up & joking.
i’m a man this day this mulligan drunk…

.

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