Jam Baxter
Mama Cuishe
Yes, this is my seventh
Wipe that look off your face señor, you're dealing with a professional
He fills my cup with the air of a fireman solemnly cutting a man free from the wreckage of his vehicle
Don't judge me
(Yeah)
A small lizard peeks over my earlobe
His tongue is blistered
His shoes are dirty
I flinch as it drools on my shoulder
Perturbing the adjacent table
Their baby slams it's face in to a cold quesadilla
I take a slow passionate sip
Apologies chicos, I house these reptiles
It's merely a favour to a friend
Don't judge me
This man is a melted action figure
Liquor droplets whizz around him
Sliding in to the mezcaleria like Hollywood starlet in to a box office filled to the brim with sticky gold coins
He's been drinking again

Don't judge me

Don't judge me