Untitled Poem

The maudlin drunk lagrange point /
slip-slide out of sight /
aching souls in Northern Pub half-twilight /
golden liquor newly coined /
from brass taps and full casks /
pulled by dead eyed bar staff /
and sad songs from jukebox born /
with cigarette burns on the chairs of the lovelorn /
the maudlin drunk lagrange point /
heading towards some sort of light /