A Month of Fun.

A month of fun for sale,

Animals in a tin

And intellectualising art,

Laughing on the lawn

And baths all the time

 

She has indented lines around her eyes, as though she’s

Been wearing goggles all her youth.

She says she’s no feminist and then eats piles of Branston’s pickle.

I hate the stuff.

But there’s a month of fun for sale,

Which her gingerness and her sigh, drugs and flute and tasty little kisses

Will make a month in the world

a lifetime in the head.

 

Possibly, there are side effects to my vice

Dolce & Gabbana indulge yourself,

Dropping her at the gym,

Whilst I count the last of my chocolate currency,

Laugh at my luck and sustain my pretty good body.

 

Though a month of morning traffic I’ll miss

Clinically dead,

And the 12 p.m. lunchtime hunger,

Whilst I’ll be loving the golden slumber

As she sits by the piano

And teases me into another dream.

 

A month of fun for sale,

Posher voice,

Tins of the chemicals we need

It’s too easy to fall for everybody,

And too often I am Alice

Just get me this girl here,

And remove those plastic goggles.

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