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Bolton on Daily Show


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nothing political about this one, just a chance to loosen the fingers last week:

 

¶ amateur night (an ode to my late wishful friend bukowski). 3 a.m. jan. 2, 2010

¶ the young drunk punks were out tonight,

¶ and so was i,

¶ trying to catch up to their staggering good moods.

¶ crosseyed happy,

¶ stuffing the jukebox with crumpled bills,

¶ punching numbers that failed to add up

¶ waltzing matilida, and lady gaga and kings of leon,

¶ all the liquor inspired quicker and

¶ selling out faster than billy joel on broadway.

¶ and i stood at the bar like a siberian cynic

¶ - because there's one on every frigid corner -

¶ wild turkey and acidic

¶ calling out the kids and posers,

¶ and hungover red-bull amateurs

¶ still trying to catch a ride on the new year wave of hope.

¶ rebels without a glue,

¶ goddamn,

¶ the sloppy symbolists in a midnight marching band of left foot anarchists

¶ tripping in full trumpet bloom

¶ saxless and tromboned,

¶ blowing pissy giggles and wet farts

¶ that wash down easily

¶ with flat beer and slippery nipple shots.

¶ and i laughed and laughed and laughed

¶ until the place was empty

¶ when the bartender summoned

¶ a last alcohol call

¶ amidst the sticky floors, empty bottles

¶ crooked tables

¶ and unfulfilled desires.

¶ and i stood alone

¶ raw and proud,

¶ because as old as i've become

¶ no one could keep up.

 

jw

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nothing political about this one, just a chance to loosen the fingers last week:

 

¶ amateur night (an ode to my late wishful friend bukowski). 3 a.m. jan. 2, 2010

¶ the young drunk punks were out tonight,

¶ and so was i,

¶ trying to catch up to their staggering good moods.

¶ crosseyed happy,

¶ stuffing the jukebox with crumpled bills,

¶ punching numbers that failed to add up

¶ waltzing matilida, and lady gaga and kings of leon,

¶ all the liquor inspired quicker and

¶ selling out faster than billy joel on broadway.

¶ and i stood at the bar like a siberian cynic

¶ - because there's one on every frigid corner -

¶ wild turkey and acidic

¶ calling out the kids and posers,

¶ and hungover red-bull amateurs

¶ still trying to catch a ride on the new year wave of hope.

¶ rebels without a glue,

¶ goddamn,

¶ the sloppy symbolists in a midnight marching band of left foot anarchists

¶ tripping in full trumpet bloom

¶ saxless and tromboned,

¶ blowing pissy giggles and wet farts

¶ that wash down easily

¶ with flat beer and slippery nipple shots.

¶ and i laughed and laughed and laughed

¶ until the place was empty

¶ when the bartender summoned

¶ a last alcohol call

¶ amidst the sticky floors, empty bottles

¶ crooked tables

¶ and unfulfilled desires.

¶ and i stood alone

¶ raw and proud,

¶ because as old as i've become

¶ no one could keep up.

 

jw

 

Sounds like a night at the old pink

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