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| Dinner for two at the Hotel du Vin |
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"Are you wearing the panties I bought you?
“Tell me the answer is ‘yes’.
“After we’ve dined I would love to escort you
“Upstairs for a game of ‘Undress’.
“How does it feel? I’d love you to tell me.
“I do hope I got the right size.
“If you were my teacher you’d have to expel me
“For staring so long at your thighs.
“Did I tell you I’m earning four million a year
“In profits on corporate stock?
“We’re now making sweat shirts and premium beer.
“At work I am known as ‘The Rock’.
“After I’ve had you I’ll take you to Paris
“Or Rome, if that’s what you’d prefer.
“There’s no need to blush – I don’t mean to embarrass.
“You know, you’d look dashing in fur.”
He went on like this for the whole of the meal,
Trying to shine like the sun.
So halfway through pudding she turned on her heel;
She needed to breathe and she wanted to feel
A little less like his escalope of veal,
And she left the hotel at a run.
The street was a sea of perpetual shoppers
Immersed in the need to acquire,
And as if she’d been hit by a lungful of ‘poppers’
She realised – he’d been her buyer.
“Why do I always end up with these men?”
She screamed in her head as she ran.
“It’s like the same dinner again and again,
“And for what? For an all-over tan?”
Her fury was mounting and now she was wild
With insult and passion and guilt –
Helpless and hopeless like a six-year-old child:
The truth had gone in to the hilt.
“Panties,” she breathed as she walked into traffic,
Silently gritting her teeth.
The realisation was painful and graphic –
She still had them on underneath.
With cars rushing past she was showered in light,
As the motorists lit up her stage.
And with vim and with vigour, with all of her might,
She tore off the panties and screamed in delight
As they left her in spirals of glorious flight,
To be swept away forever on the warm toxic wind of a thousand exhausts.
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