in a Leamington Spa pub

she sat alone

alone with some bloke

loading the table

and her

with shorts


he’ll recoup that investment later


wearing badly fitting jeans

bloke slouched to the pissoir


she glanced at me

as she downed a glass


being a sociable guy

cursed with empathy

I asked her quickly,


‘tell me, are you really happy?’


bloke swaggered back,

a tell-tale damp smudge

inches zip-side,


‘I don’t know what happiness is.’




◄ happy-hour confab

Oxford snapshots ►



Mon 17th Feb 2020 11:23

thanks, Frances.

Frances Macaulay Forde

Mon 17th Feb 2020 02:06

Such a sad but effecting comment on people, the pub, the place - life.

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