I take Kylie and Karon out for supper . It is like a family . The police stop me , thinking my ginger beer is a real beer . It is not . Like most things in life ; it is fake .
The first time I was at Karon's place , I played the guitar . I never saw it again . She told me it was broken . Truth is , she hid the fucking thing so she didn't have to put up with my guitar playing . If there ever was a good reason to lie , that is it .
Karon has a budgie . In a few short months , I will be doing security work back in Halifax with some crazy lady who holds her budgie under water . Her name is Pat . I wrote her a poem :
If I had a water rat / I think that I would name it Pat
And if it caused my soul to bleed / I would change its name to Pat indeed
But what if I had a cat instead / A placid one maybe dead
Well , unless it hissed and even spat
I would not call my pussy Pat
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