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Poem

Emerging from home to the bus stop outside,
where women are heading for work,
my perambulation as past them I slide
pulls their heads from their phones with a jerk.
My buttocks are both thrusting forwards and back
and my hips swivel round like a snake,
my backside moves just like two cats in a sack
too much for the ladies to take.
I see from their faces their shock and their horror
that they are directing at me
will certainly not be around here tomorrow
because you can take it from me
that the joy of this morning from when day was dawning
and I don't care what those women thought
is me getting to treasure a man's simple pleasure
of wearing freshly ironed boxer shorts.

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