Friday, May 8, 2020




iBaroque


my dearest elizabeth returned
home from manchester disappointed that
the hacenda had closed
something to do with new factory acts
she had only gone for 
a few new tracks and
some of doctor johnson’s vocabulary pills
but alas it was not to be
so she was back home with me in
the candle gloom doing girly things
playing with our hair needlepoint and
giggling without a care

we had drunk three bottles of tesco’s cider
fantising that if lord nelson was still alive
he would capture for us a small island 
concievably he could invade ibzia in a 
day or even in his lunch hour then sit back 
with a brandy soaked laugh and a big fat cigar
studying neuvoux riche investment portfollios
with which we could build space and passion 
in the creamfields 
for fun in the sun away from our routines
of tedious teas and charity deeds
to a place where we could step out 
and be truly carefree
not stuck in smokey london playing charades
in rhythm with grime


© 2014  by iDrew
First published  Picaroon Poetry  23/03/16


No comments:

Post a Comment