Love in a Black Sack

The final leaves of autumn hang from decimated trees

The daybreak mist is lifting; there’s a stiff, refreshing breeze

I hope I’ve timed this dog walk right to try and catch the eye

Of that pretty lady jogger who each morning dances by

But there’s just one thing that’s stopping me and it’s not that I’m too shy

I’ve got a hot steaming dog poo in this bag

I have lay in bed imagining that first time that we speak

Rehearsed my lines a thousand times; refined my opening technique

We’d talk about how beautiful it is this time of year

She’d be standing close, all lycra clad – my inhibitions disappear

But there’s just one part I can’t escape that brings me abject fear

That I’d have a freshly baked dog turd in a bag

There she is! I see her – bounding gleefully this way

I screw my courage to the sticking point and practice what to say

She’s stopped to tie her shoelace – I won’t get a better chance

To strike a conversation and start our blossoming romance

But my dread comes to fruition – my most fearful circumstance

Must lose this dirty dog excrement in a bag!

The moment I have dreamt of’s here – not sure what to do

She will be passing by in seconds and I am holding canine poo

I scan my immediacy in panic looking superficially

For somewhere apt to hide this chap and do it drastically

There’s only one thing for it – I’ll launch it in the nearest tree

There goes that filthy dog nugget in a bag

It’s five years since we first locked eyes – I always will value

That decision to sling that dog shit up a sparsely covered Yew

So the next time you’re out walking and you spot a dangling sack

Hanging from a leafless branch; a dirty secret shroud in black

It might have been the start of love as I look fondly back

At that beautiful steaming dog poo in a bag

Pushing All The Wrong Buttons

“This Virgin West Coast train will soon arrive at Platform 4”

I grab my personal effects and head straight for the door

Now, what I’ve naively forgotten in my haste to leave the train

Is that I’m first to that green button – and the pressure is insane!

In several minutes time I will become a nervous wreck

As a legion of commuters start breathing down my neck

They’ll all be scrutinising to see if I delay

To get that train door open and shave a second off their day

But I’ve a second chance; my suffering denied

The platform we’re approaching maybe on the other side

In an act of desperation I push my face against the glass

Hoping to see rails instead of concrete rumbling past

But my reprieve is short-lived; this ordeal will come true

As the edge of platform 4 eases slowly in to view

The pressure is unbearable. A huge collective stare

“Why is he not pressing it? Their subconscious thoughts declare

In order to appease the crowd and defuse this madding scene

I start tapping at the button despite the fact it’s not turned green

And I can’t stop now, they’re watching. Soulless city worker eyes

“Open now you bastard!” my internal monologue replies

“Ding” – at last! The light comes on after what has seemed an age

One last furious tapping rep will release me from this cage

The noise of door mechanics is like music to my ears

The groans of agitation pass; my anguish disappears

I alight the train in deep relief and exhale a calming sigh

As London’s finest clamber past to offices nearby

I head towards the turnstiles reflecting on my fate

The next time I disembark a train I will procrastinate

An Extra 10 Minutes on the Toilet

The working week has finished and I’m shattered to the core

My head is full of spreadsheets that I’m trying to ignore

At home’s a boy that’ll hound me as soon as that key turns in the door

Know what? I’ll grab an extra 10 minutes in the toilet

The interrogation starts before my coat is on the hook

“Daddy where’s my lightsabre; have you seen my Star Wars book?”

“I drew a picture of E.T. – you must come have a look!”

Thank God for that extra 10 minutes in the toilet

“Do aardvarks dream? Can penguins fly? Wanna hear me count it twos?”

“I’m think they do, I ‘m not sure they can. Can I at least take off my shoes?!”

The questions are coming thick and fast; need my porcelain refuge

Too soon for my extra 10 minutes in the toilet?

The Lego’s out; it’s everywhere  – it’s messing up my head!

“I’ll be Luke – you be Vader . You can’t be Hans – he’s dead”

Is it wrong of me to be counting down ‘til this boy is up in bed?

I crave those extra 10 minutes in the toilet

The game finishes abruptly before the Rebels can advance

“Daddy watch me bottle-flip; have you seen this Fortnite dance?”

The toilets free, I’ve done my bit – I need to take this chance!

Al last!! My extra 10 minutes in the toilet

The seat comes down, my phone comes out. I scroll my Twitter feed

Sky Sports News and Facebook; there ain’t nothing I won’t read

Whilst I sit in quiet solitude and pretend I’ve more than weed

Thank God for these extra 10 minutes in the toilet

Have I been in here too long? I ask myself. Not sure what to do…

If I stay in here much longer I might give away a clue

There’s only one thing for it; I’ll feign a bout of gastric flu

And grab another 10 minutes in the toilet