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It Doesn’t Mean Anything
The temperature is tepid,flags flick and flex in the winter wind from every window,lit up by advent candles,because the football is apparently coming home for Christmas,after ignoring its obligations for several years (unless a woman asked),and every night,the pub is buzzing,because people finally have something to look forward to on this mad little island. You…
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POV: Your insanely high maintenance (and generally insane) femme gf has come to watch you play football, even though it’s raining, and she doesn’t understand sports at all
I’m lathered and lavish,lips, soft as a cloud,I’m trying to establish that your girl is around,in case any other bitch has her eyes on my baby,my nails are kinda short but I’m known to get crazy. Just for you.I wore my red dress,just for you,high heels on the hallowed ground too,slipping and sliding on the…
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Bots From Russia
It must be bots, because, of course, your streets can’t be squalid, dripping with poison. Reality doesn’t run side by side with your fantasy, so you manifest new antagonists, to avoid the fact you have been staring at the real culprits all along. It must be bots, bad news from Russia, spilling monkey emojis into…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 