Oh Bad

As we lie here in the gutter, Molly -
just this before we part –
I remember little of Canning Town
and where we washed up next.
I think we went to Docklands
where you fell off the bus.
Yes, you matched me dram for dram
and maybe won the pints
but I beat you on the cocktails
when you spilled yours on your tights.
You’re as beautiful as a full glass
- as desirable as rum -
I take my leave unwillingly,
I fear the police have come.