Men Just Can't Help Acting on
At first my lips were sealed against the
It was called 'Chilled Grape'
One of a range of sweet lies.
Later I wore my hair 'Ash Blonde'
and pretended the sun shone only on me.
You stood there: dry, normal and uneasy.
Once you licked 'Gold Shadow' from my lids
and wondered at a tear.
But it was only one liedrop in the ocean
I might have shed.
Afterwards you said you loved me
and I 'Allday Crème' blushed.
Then a drink and a picture show
bought you an edition of one.
Skilfully crafted, presented with taste
I washed it off when I got home.
At last I told you of my waning passion
and all day Sunday as we screwed
I thought of us.
Me screwing you.
And you all screwed up screwing fashion.
If you've any comments on this poem, Michelle McNulty would
be pleased to hear from you.