Friday, 2 January 2015


She thought there was no access to
her heart through any of her
external orifices:
he thought he preferred  bare
ear-lobes, nipples, labia, to a
mouthful of metal;
she thought middle-aged men eyed her
askance, only to
ogle her arse as she walked on;
he thought tattoos a turn-off, the
smell of future regret trailing in the
dirt like a fake fur-coat;
she thought her soul was a stone, each
rough fuck a chip destined one day to
leave her polished smooth;
he thought his life was over when his
wife left him, finally
dissillusioned with dust;
she thought a bar tempting;
he thought it a place of despair.

The bar-tender thought he’d seen
odder couples, stranger pairings, even
ordinary folk who came in and found
how wrong they could be.


  1. Yes, well. You know what thought did.

    Lovely piece.