© 2014 zygoteinmycoffee Ink.
An eighty-six day binge at the age of forty-one
Sounds far too much like a maths problem
So I suppose the question I now have to answer is why?
All that drink
When everyday was a drink
And almost every moment was spent drunk or hungover

So why?
Well, the first thing that springs to mind
Is YOU, this TOWN and all its stupid claims
Whether it be a hipster at the green door
Or a street drinker being fickle over branded beer
They all need attention to make them feel real

After the places Iíve been and
The things Iíve seen and done
Have landed me here but why?
A home in an interesting seaside town
Where on first appearances a lot of people know the deal
It all seemed so damn appealing

But then what generally came was a lot of dross
Or too cool kids not having a clue
And ultimately the death of new music and a return to the old
Which led to this deal with poetry and spoken word
And the reason I am what is me today
This had been the moment of truth

The realisation that this town had changed me
And affected me so deeply
The eighty-six day binge came out of that moment of clarity
And ended in my favourite bar drinking water
Realising that Iíd changed even more
Brighton has institutionalised me like a prison of my soul
So how can I go anywhere else?

The answer is unsure but I have a picture
Of what I want but is it real or
Just a imagined utopia of isolation and quiet
A place out of reach of my limited funds
I have to know if itís just a dream or the
Deluded thoughts after an eighty-six day binge
May 2014
by Bradford Middleton