So after our raptuous 
'with-strawberry' encounter
my sweet Chinese Miss 
(I called her Bliss by the way)
took hold of me by the hand
and led me to 'The Wunderland' 
A local seedy shack of a bar.
"It good there Wrick" She said.
(laying on her futon, I taught
her how to speak my name...
with her legs around my waist

was the first time she breathed
"Oh Wrick....Wrick!)

There was this group on stage 
playing some Western stuff.
My 'Coke'n Vod' first sipped
had an unexpected metalic taste
reminded me of iron pills
m'mum used to feed me...
anyway, the lead singer - 
an unshaven hunk called Hank
with a beat-up guitar and
squinting through the smoke
of a black coloured fag 
hanging limp from his lips -
half croaked his weird version 
of "I wannur 'old yur 'and"
looking straight at, and 
only at, my darling Bliss!

I had the feeling they knew 
each another a bit too well.
I saw her cheeks redden, 
I reckon she knew I'd seen
and turned those innocent almond eyes 
at me and blew me a kiss.
"I luf you Wrik" her red lips 
exaggeratedly mouthing.
Like I believed that!
I'm always doing that -
punching above my head.

Not long after, with a surprise
flourish by the demented drummer
the band finished its gig. 
Hank lit yet another cig
from the wet fagbutt of the one before, 
downed a frothy beer at the bar
then disappeared toward the loo. 
Not long after my Bliss did too.

An hour later fed up with waiting, 
and watching this middle-aged 
busty blonde learner-pole-dancer -
who at least three times
slipped to the floor with a slight grunt

and a surprised look on her face -
I finally downed the rest of my glass
and concluded Bliss now wanted 
to "old Hank's 'and" and not mine.
I acting undeterred and sauntered 
to the street door and left.

I had a cheerless walk from 
the bar to the dock,
so many bustling people - 
them earning their daily crust
and me with a painful lump 
in my throat hastening towards 
the faded green ferryboat.

The Ferry left an hour later 
with a puff of grey smoke
and a half-hearted moan 
from its steam driven horn.
The air was hot, moist, 
and full of B.O. in the crowd.
Standing on top deck I breathed afresh.

The waves caused a splashy mist
while I was just thinking
Bliss was mine for a while 
when I spied this curvy brunette
sitting alone on a deck bench
smoking through a ciggy holder
held loosely between her gloved
slender fingers, and looking lost.
I decided she needed cheering up...

I wonder if she likes strawberries?

© griffonner 2026