How to make a cup of tea

How to make a cup of tea, poem:
"How many drums?
Come closer.
Let's get high."
White lights reflected
Off toilet-style tiles.
"Let's wait a while, sober like."
There's a transvestite man she'd kiss on sight.
No one's home
So no one knows.
She had a look some women get
When they grow bored of blinking,
As if they can smell what you've been drinking.
And they dislike you just the right amount.
God! It's just the right amount.
I suddenly know what it's like to not be in love.
What a rush.
Looks dead at my eyes.
I dared look at her lips.
At this point of the story, I left the event.
None of it was funny,
It was such a joke.
But the drugs began to work, I think,
Or they should have, I paid a lot,
Or I should have, I didn't exactly have the money.
Promise of transfer,
I lost track of time on purpose again.
Make a note-to-self before going in a 24-hour shop off the street:
"Connect the white wire to the WI-FI router so the modem flashes yellow. Ignore the bellows and the barks from angry cars, and get twenty-seven pound tabaco from the back of the cabinet behind the counter. You've counted, right? Don't forget to count it before you go. Draft the apology text for when you fuck it up; just enough remorse but keep it casual. Just crack a joke, then have a smoke. Twenty-seven pounds. Was it left or spent? I thought you counted? Your friends must not have counted: seven in the house but six goodbyes. It's cuz you're sat outside. Time passes by. Twenty-seven minutes, or twenty-seven seconds? Don't think in seconds, just treat it like a first time."
I turn the page.
I run finger-nails over skin.
I get undressed again.
I cry baby-boy-like again.
"Quiet baby, in the corner."
Finger-nails over skin.
Get undressed.
"Baby-boy, cry again.
Quiet baby, he's in the corner."

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