The Bars & In Between ~ by Bob Kesh

Hopping between bar to bar

through the bustling city

I sit with a Poppy pinned to my chest

and drunks sit between the pepper

shaped candle holders

and Rhinestones fidget restlessly

in the Bucket of Blood


outside laborers heave

heavy chains with contorted backs

and the trees drop their Autumn confetti

and Jesters play,

people pass

through roofs

cradling thoughts.

and a man feeds his trilby, with

an Oriental girl huddled in the corner

and artists divide day from night

on bare smacked concrete,


as I fall into Freuds through

the burnt smell of coffee beans,

out of the relentless crowds

to offered up destinations through glasses

Holy Freud Lemonade, Acapulco,

Alabama Slammer

life brims.


And a girl with a blue light brings out the night

and the stars and holds them on a string

The moon looks left

a star at it’s feet

and the last cloud twists.


The hum of Busses and black cabs blur

and a boy in bright green

peaks from ‘neath a waterfall

and falls into the world

and in the Pillars of Hercules

Buddha hangs from a bell

dancing with shadows on frosted windows

A french model on the 3rd floor and

eccentric cocktail of colours glow.

I see,

the night is going.


A writer and musician from London currently studying at the Faber Academy. Generally nocturnal, he can be found indulging in all the pleasures and pains of the night.

Contact him at bobkesh @ hotmail . co .uk (with no spaces)

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