Notebook
The moon was curious so
she donned a bobble hat and,
gathering her galaxy into a shopping trolley,
trailed along the grit street,
the wheels of her milky way wobbling
a little…
Face round and smooth, she
shone out among the crowd,
despite the woolly hat
and the trolley.
Having no one to come out to
the lonely man spent
his Saturday shopping for all things
rainbow.
Or failing that, pink.
Monday announces
rainbow trainers, rainbow socks,
beige trousers (a stumbling block),
rainbow t-shirt, pink hoodie and
pink backpack.
And as he walks to the Park and Ride,
Grindr in hand,
he momentarily aligns
with the lonely businesswoman —
all overtime sober in serious cuts —
their progress smashing genders
like avocados.
Don’t go all casual
at her door,
thinking you’ll need to
button the metaphors,
zip the similes.
Under this ‘Press Enter’
garb she’s a poet;
published and keen as a pin
lurking in a seam.
So, while you speak
s-l-o-w-l-y
she’s nipping at your skin.
