Life

Moustache

I couldn’t help but comment
on that fiery facial fur,
not thinking my kind words
could be taken as a slur.

‘My father had a snot-mop
much the same as yours,’ I said.
‘An oily top lip doily,
that he dyed a deep fox red.

‘He used to wax his mouthbrow
every night and twirl the tips,
like you, until each point strayed
several inches from his lips.’

I’d barely finished speaking
than she slapped round the face,
and wailing like a banshee,
she upped and left the place.

I learned that day no woman,
young or old, appreciates
kind words about her facial hair
from men met on blind dates.

Life

An eye for an I

Deleted myself today.
Wrote ‘love you’ without saying who.
Not who to… (which was you) …only ‘I’ went astray.
I should have seen then we were through.

Maybe I’d known that to press every key,
would have been to admit my defeat,
and I’d hoped by omission I’d keep myself free –
so left the phrase incomplete.

Who knows?

But somewhere, our messages crossed on the line
and a chime from my inbox announced your reply.
Four fatal words, ‘luv u 2 sugapie’,
summarised all we had lost.

I’ll never explain my silent farewell,
since I know that you’d not understand
why I dragged those nauseous words to the trash,
along with the future you’d planned.

I erased your name and address from my contacts
and swept your books from my shelf;
relieved, truth be told, your detestable syntax
had freed me to refind myself.

I returned as ‘u’ disappeared
and I found myself undeleted.
I logged in again to the site where we’d paired,
and thus the process repeated…

Middle-aged gent with own hair, distinguished;
seeks female companion, long legs and large bust.
Essential you have respect for Queen’s English;
fine spelling and grammar a must.

ALA