Bradford Middleton Returns


It’s another damn day in the heart of addiction

And I’m dry, out of smokes and

That ain’t good as I sit here, feeling my nerves

Shredded as if I ain’t been here before.

Last night was a strange one but it’s the daylight

Hours that always seem to be the hardest

As night brings cover with under which I can

Operate normally, as if any of this life is ordinary.

I smoked the last of the smoke last night and

Then went out, unsure of what I might find

Out there on a wet and windy Saturday night

As I stepped out deep in the heart of addiction

I walked the street of ill-repute desperate for

Something, desperate for, well I wasn’t sure

As the young and beautiful, so full of confidence

In their own youthful naivety went out to party.

I walked on down and the street seemed almost

Quiet considering it was packed just a few hours

Earlier when the beggars were out begging and the

Street drinkers were out of their minds drinking.

One old local came and went as I made my way

All the way to the bitter end, pass another that I

Regularly hole up in recently and then a brief

Contemplation of a return to another old haunt of mine

But then I discover that one was full and it 

Didn’t look good as immaculately bearded men

Stood vaping at the front door so I wandered on

Round, pass some poor soul working and just

For a moment I thought about hitting town but

On a Saturday night at the end of freshers’ week

An old soak like me would stand out and be primed

For ridicule so I turned on back and returned to my usual stool.

I walked on in and immediately felt at home as I

Made my way to the bar where, I couldn’t believe it,

The barman had saved me my usual stool and at last 

I settled right on in, a beer and rum to get me started.

The DJ was the good one but he seemed tired and the

Music he played seemed to fit in with the mood, one

Of downbeat desperation for the night to be over as

The drink went down and my wallet emptied until

That moment when it finally was and at last I could

Go on home and sleep, hating the idea of waking 

In the morning, out of smokes and not even hungover

And as the day begun I knew I’d have to call my dealer.

Bradford Middleton lives in Brighton, England and began writing poetry about 13 years ago at the age of 35.  Since then he’s been published widely in the small press world and if you like these poems why not go follow him on Twitter for sporadic updates @BradfordMiddle5.

About vision791

Pushcart nominee Jeanette Cheezum has been published on several online writing sites and in fifteen Anthology books and four poetry books. Three of these books have made the New York Times Best Sellers list. Awarded The Helium Networks Premium Writer’s Badge, Bronze Creative Writing Award and a Marketplace Writers award. Recently she has published fourteen ebooks at Barnes and Noble and Amazon. You may find a list of some of her work at
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