Leave a comment on verse 1 0
Saturday afternoon spent in bed.
Our eyes had tuned in
Over a clothes rail in Miss Selfridge
And, conversations about size 12’s,
And the size of her bum
Leave a comment on verse 2 0
An hour later,
She padded away;
To quench the thirsts of exertion.
Indolently lolling on the bedsheets
And full of windmill thoughts.
Blithely, I glanced at the face
Of the nonchalant alarm:
Leave a comment on verse 3 0
In a spasm of incoherent fumbling
The mute radio finally found a voice;
Infuriatingly lingering over the unimportant scores
Involving Arsenal and Liverpool,
Before, eventually, giving way
To the nail-biting, nerve-jangling panic
Of mid-table mediocrity.