WOKE UP CHEAP:
Last night in a dark club I was recognised standing in line having something long black & inky stamped on the back of my hand “he’s not on the list but he can come” smiled a gentler bearded face. Then I was taken to back room that smelled of beer & stains, arms of strangers draped around my shoulders, kindness in a blacked-out hollow beneath an Angels feet. The music was infectious, the people warm & full of hope – the dancing was strange as I watched from the back – angular & awkward like it was learned from books. Strange muscle afflictions that never found a groove.