1879: Bulldust

They’ll sniff around as dogs –
met nose-to-tail & inhale too
deeply on chopped out lines
in locked-tight cubicles – slip
a packet in a palm – pay u l8r
[if it is there at a night’s end]

They complain my other half
don’t have as much fun – but
then vomit up last night’s gut
[they recover in a living room
& kids ask why they do stuff]
All solace is blown – bulldust

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