Where new writing finds its voice
Poem

Dawn Chorus

Dean Wilson

There’s a pissed-up Mancunian
at the foot of my bed
massaging my feet
and singing ‘The World Is A Circle’.

I only invited him back
because from certain angles
he has the look of Craig the builder
from Big Brother 2000.

Up to now he’s been
the perfect gentleman
and if it wasn’t for my stretch marks
I’d let him massage somewhere else.

I don’t know when he’s leaving
and I’m reluctant to ask
in case he takes offence
and ransacks my home.

If anything were to happen
to my art deco teapots
and Alan Minter memorabilia
the shock would haunt me for the rest of my days.