Where is my White-Haired Friend&;#063;

Where Is My White Haired Friend?

By Abernitshoe Fruitslag

I hear a fox scream like a man stabbed, in the face
I slip on the wet tiles and do the splits
I mourn the loss of my mop, my friend
Hope

A boy runs past, laughing to himself
The scene is set
The surface breaks, the oil-slick encapsulates the man
All men

Lithe lifeguard, fingers brushing handle
I lose another aeriel to the jet-wash
Tarrant no more - Russ Kane
Change

20p, found in my purse/kebab, well good
My father thinks he's a pigeon, he nods at everything I say
My friend floats into the deep-end, leaving a rainbow
Unreachable

I ain't got no money and I ain't got no hair
Handfulls of saw-dust liberally cover the vomit
A pair of wasped goggles, left in the locker
Africa

The floor unwashed, my friend is gone
My chino's, muddy, wet, baggy
A toilet roll, partially singed
Abandoned

Phil, shot by Lisa, in the chest
Lisa shoots us all, in the chest
Through the air like a wooden javellin with a mane of white, stringy
hair
Belief

Laughing, pointing, dancing, my friend washed to the edge
A car goes past, pumping out ragga
Cleanse my friends head, under the tap
Reunited