Sunday, 20 December 2015


Suddenly I needed a holy day from you.

I just wanted to be clever alone,

Wanted to cut a figure

Sharp-edged and pigless, white in the moonlight.

Which of the holy bimbi, bless them,

Had starched my best shirt?

Sister Suzy Wong surely?

You trotted behind.

Go away Piggles!

You hung about.

Push off!  Go play with the girls!

You would not hear.

Shove off!  Go snuffle a truffle!

Suddenly you were enough to try the patience.

Piss off, Piggles!

You did not piss off.

You crept beneath my feet.

Pop-eyed and pathetic,

Peeping up at my essential pinkness

Hoping to find your dead and eaten Mum here,

Behind and beneath the sharp edges of my starched shirt.

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