You Know What It Is
It's
a creamy cup of choccy coffee
Scalding
hot your tippy tongue
A
teeny fleck of sticky toffee
Cling
film wrapped round bleeding gums
It's
a big beige blob of Bradford Brylcreem
Holding
handsome hair on your first date
A
hairspray wash and comb regime
But
just one strand still out of place
It's
a little like licking limes and lemons
Instead
of chewing chocolate cake
A
bucket full of rind, no melon
Washed
down with water from the lake
It's
a precious painted pretty picnic
Broke
and bent by bustling bees
It's
your food pipe turned all acidic
As
you traipse among the tilted trees
It's
a slicing, slashing stab
Somewhere
'neath the breast bone
Dripping
eyes you dry and dab
On
a long drive home
It's
the slitting, splitting of a suture
When
the wound was on the mend
It's
the contemplation of her future
Home
alone with him again
