by Mark Noonan, from WordLegs
We used to get the tube in London sometimes,
and the lady on the Tannoy would say, Mind
the Gap! — pushing out the syllables with her tongue
the way you'd push the stone from a peach.
In our minds she licked our necks,
slid her tongue into our ears and whispered to us.
She was a nibbling, biting, throbbing sex-fiend, that one.
We all knew it, but we couldn't prove a thing.
How could you? It was just a recording. Just an accent.
She was probably somebody's mother,
but if she was, we all thought, then she was a serious MILF,
dripping those syrupy words on our lips,
sliding her hands down the backs of our jeans
to pull us in close, and say it again.
We harboured these thoughts through galleries
and graveyards and all the way home,
to our classrooms, to our daydreams,
and on and on like that, forever.
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