A Norwegian team beat Man City. Wowser.

A Norwegian team beat Man City. Wowser.

Hopefully, I will sleep better and feel less exhausted tomorrow.

It could be.

I think it is

Sitting on the sofa

Moisturising

The curve of her neck

The smooth skin,

Of a shoulder,

Freckle full.

It is either her

Or the light

Falling in from the window

Filtered through the trees

Is playing games

With my imagination

The juice in my brain

Jacked up

With adrenaline

Pricking my conscience

Building expectation

In a splutter of neurons.

An explosion of noise

From upstairs

Breaks the sound

Barrier

He must be moving

A body

Rolling snooker balls

Across the floor

Playing fast and loose

With a baseball bat

Paying homage

To Steve McQueen

There is no escape

And no room for magic

When the world

Is full of averice

It is better to keep it at bay

With a little soupçon

Of secrecy.

I don’t care that the sun

Is shining

She isn’t really there,

Not today

Or any other

That much is true.

It is a comfort

To pretend she is

As much as it is

To believe

The guy upstairs

Is an axe murderer

With a distinct

Lack of respect

For peace on earth

And wall to wall

Carpeting