Sunday, 7 March 2021

Down Where the Baggies Roll



I knew I’d be licking the sticky

floor with the rest.

It was writ large on

the flyer.

The bounce and pop gives

no pity.

Skirt spins look mag-nificent

from down here,

at least.

To catch a breather for

easier times, is

all I’ve got.

As shrapnel for the phone box,

my last,

disappears into

a sprung floor gap,


I blame the management.

 

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