Jus’ lookin’
by Susan Taylor
Hey hon,
I saw you
in London,
Earl’s Court. I swear
I cd have sunk
my teeth
in you;
struck
as if by
freeze-frame
in that strange
commercial
place. You
disappeared
fast,
as I was
left
wondering if you’d
heard me
say “My
God,
it’s…
(followed
by yr name
out loud). I was working
for you then
but you,
remote,
The Editor.
I visited
yr offices
in Bath. As there
was no
chair
for me,
I squatted
at your feet,
like Shee-
La-Na-Gig, among
the slippery,
shiny covers
of yr mags.
