Old friends ask me to Brunch
At half past nine
By which time they have walked the dog
And danced in a line in the Community’s hub,
As if they just can’t stop commuting
(Yoga fit and daft old fools)
Adding to the Yummy Mummies’
Chelsea Tractors’ struggles to
Get the bloody kids to school.
After careful low-fat bacon,
Strained kefir with apricots,
In a heated fierce debate
Someone’s BP Ap might beep
And at once, as if in penance,
Coffee’s off the list, with Gin,
Someone’s stabbed with a sugar pen,
Pulse-rate armbands strap up men.
We watch levers on the screen,
Home, still-alive, by half past ten.
Cherry Coombe 