Big Things

I get distracted
Big city tonight
At the periphery of an establishment
I nibble a Sidecar
Bigger things, they say
Down the line

I spy the manager
The manageress
A glitch between them slips
Through gaps in conversation at the bar
I breathe pepper
The dreadful carpet
Pickle me here
I pick up my telephone
Hello
A lit match catches one drop of orange oil
From a piece of peel
No
Not on time
I am pending fashionably late
As per instruction
The palms of my hands are tight
From turpentine but who could tell
A bell sleeve falls over my thumb
Turpenteen
Says the Scotsman of my mind

The length of a school day
Is an arbitrary measure
But one I find useful
I lay about with my pens and paper
For a school day
Climbed out from the bath
And knocked up an ensemble
The entire half of my wardrobe
Under a waistcoat
No nerve for transport
I walked the underpass
Felt my reflection in a motorcycle mirror
And sped up
We are freer under a road than on it
I say to the receiver
And hang up