Dirty bar poetry

*As the title goes it was written on this Foto 300 in a dirty napkin late at night in a nasty bar full of lost souls, poor souls, bastards, sluts, criminals, the best of each house really. *


I don´t know what to do
You cunning
That is what´s got me coming
You know…..
Just put you´re own show
To subtle that is how
And don´t let me know


Riding the two whores
not an insult it´s just the reality with real dingy gravity
poor souls they say? fuck´em, they´ll play you like kid on puberty
i got me in, now i got to get out, how what now what, screw that
gonna choose that. I´m out baby girls.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.




    1. …sorry I got cut off! It’s not a good place to be. But I like that about this. Thats what I mean by the gritty. Cool brother

    2. Henry…good morning. Maybe is because is 9 a.m in England but I think you choked on your words, you said “It´s not a……”and left it there. a what?…..damn.

      Thank you for the nice compliment.

      Forgot, I have to send you an email later on. Maybe your interested.

      1. Ok. I have not received anything yet friend. I will check my email on the computer when I return home

    1. My man John! Thank you.

      Don´t forget I read that post about you in Bulgaria, those are some serious people over there, a lot of Bulgarian mafia here in Spain, not kidding. But as always you put a smile on my face the way you write it.

      P.S. In that dirty bar, a guy dresses like you and looking so good, weeeehaa! you would have them all dancing around you. 😉

  1. This struck me right in my chest- I’ve been in the same bars like this when I lived in Barcelona, I sat like an innocent angel ( not because I was any better than anyone else, but I got out of there with not to much harm done- just a punch in my face)
    I rememer the drugaddicts, the whores without any teeth, the maffia leader, the rich businessman among the broken people….and they were my friends, even if they lied or stealed. I never judged them – I borrowed them money I never would get back, I shared a bottle if wine and listened.
    Nice and honest piece Charly.

  2. If I ever end up in a bar in Spain, instead of judging people I will watch out for a poet hanging around 🙂 Not that I judge much anyway, but your poetry makes my hear softer 🙂

      1. Its marrowfat peas that have been slow coocked and gone all mushy, like soup. Its amazing pal

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