Words Wrung Out

A poem

Author’s Photograph of the author: 1990s.

Words.

Words are for nerds

Not cool to speak proper

You must be rich

With an accent like that

Take this bat and thwack that ball

All the way down that long hall

Till it bounces back and hits you on the nose

Your nose is your best feature

Now don’t pose.

Ladies don’t do that

Boys can though

And you are not a boy

You may pose and wear those trousers

Fed up, I suppose, with this situation

Beauty being all and, well, so many beauties

You can never win

Nice to see you with your long hair down.

‘Did you get the trousers in?’

Pity; once you leave your career

Well, don’t

say I didn’t warn you

But, you’re so young

What if I’m not?

What if I’m forty but I look twenty?

Twenty is plenty

You are referring to roads