The pump horse tempest.

So with the pretences at a end 

the low punch’s reigned in

Your Belts set to the left

Late night longings to the right

Of a low lit Shadow filled night

That’s got you measured

caught trying to readdress 

a state of undress in

those public house bright lights

If they could have bottled it

you’d have drunk it dry

Pump horse tempest

If life is work then somewhere 

is a awesome short to wash it down with.