Bogarting the Night

'Didn't I tell you to stay inside your box at the gay bar,' said Rosa.

She found the Manchester dog down at Soi Cowboy making some extra change offering blow jobs.

'Leave him be,' said Max.

Humiliation is what he needed.

Instead of ripping off other expats, 'now you can earn your keep,' said Max, who stuck a taser down his pants. 

'Excellent, I say, excellent,' convulsed Gartland, who seemed to enjoy the high voltage gun.

'No doubt about it,' said Max, 'he's  fried.'

If we keep this up, I said to Rosa, the poet might even overtake Bernie Sanders as a meme. 

'Let him eat his own balls,' said Rosa, who really didn't like the guy one bit. 

It was too late, I said, you fed to them to the soi dogs at Patpong.

'Nothing but a fucking beggar.' 

That indeed he was. 

And now he was sucking cock for a living at Soi Cowboy.

I guess that's what he meant in his poem, 'Bogarting the  Night'.