Print This Page

Dear Sofa.

If the world was different

I could write you a letter

A bon mot from the naughty step

Written in her blood

Though she felt no pain

 

Exchanging body fluids

How shall I count the ways ?

The end of the innocence indeed:

 

We’re a long way from that

A long way from Maidenhead and

The darkened aftermath

Convicts us still

If you know where to look

In the velveteen clints & grykes.

You’ve seen a lot, dear Sofa -

More than mum would care to know.