Fornicate The Aggravator

(She Just Wants Him To Be Friendly and Like Her!)

Please, don’t strike me again… it hurts so.
See, I’m just kissing you.
Look at this… I found it this afternoon…
it’s a seashell of some kind,
imagine that… right in the middle of Splott.
Maybe it’s a sign? You know…
like a ‘Good Omen’ or something?
Look at the colours of it, it’s special…
here, you can have it, I don’t mind,
I’ll maybe find another one.
Anyway, I don’t need a lucky charm,
not when I’ve got you to look after me.
I did some drawings yesterday after you left,
two of them, well, two and a half really
because The Bailiffs came around
and frightened me whilst I was working
on the third one, it’s ruined I’m afraid,
I had to hide under the stairs again.
But, I’m happy with the first two,
look at this, it’s you riding a real horse
like a knight or something from the movies
all proud, handsome and charming
just like back when I first met you.
This other one is you winning a trophy,
I’m not exactly sure what for?
but, you are the winner all the same!
Pardon? Sure, I’ll leave you alone…
you were out all night, you must be tired…
just holler if you need anything, my love.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.