A London day, a Grey day

    ---Met a drunken philosopher and a young girl in a bar in Oxford 97

    He was drunk
    He lost his senses
    He told me stories about the posters
    on the ceiling fifty years ago
    He couldn't stand on his feet
    He said his life is just like that
    Crooked straw inside his mug
    He couldn't be understood anyway

    He had a belly big enough to hold ten beers he said
    He also had the guts to tell me that I made a mistake
    All right could be all wrong
    He knew nothing, and nothings could be known
    Any truth could be seen in a totally different way
    Searching for his pen in frantic
    He drew his name in a wrinkled envelope

    Dull faced boys are making eyes at me
    They needed girls;
    They had to go to the back rooms
    Coconut flavored condom, pineapple flavored dove
    In Lamb Flag, angles fell in the ashes too soon.*

    A pretty face across the table
    She was leading a class discussion
    She was talking about philosophy,
    She talked and the boys listened attentively
    She talked about the world,
    Her face was worth a pot of gold
    She was velvet, she was pink,
    She would be all in red,
    She talked as if her father just won a million bucks

    What a picture
    A drunk philosopher and
    This knows-all pretty face in the same room
    One in red and one in blue
    One is white and the other is black
    I was blue in between and
    The room became gray
    In a London's gray day.

    *Lamb flag and Angles in the ashes are famous bars in Oxford.

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