skinned knees

getting queasy

the night's taste, flesh

still hanging on, fresh

and my arm's skin

soaked in the ink

of pens of friends,

and to what end?

skinned knees

takin' it easy

on a sunday

the best day

for basking in regret

over the marks left

in the skin of one

whose shape spun

round in front of eyes

that swam side to side

and one asked about malice

but the tactics were just this:

drink, drink, drink, bite

puke, sleep, quease, write