I watch her drop snapchat stories like molly,
Her face like a doggy,
Canine police squaddies sniffing the mandy
Getting a whiff of those pansies.
Ransom the wifi randomly while sitting
At the station. No 3G means no elation,
Cos uploading pictures takes patience,
Incremental like Bowie, implications
Growing station to station.
She got it, don’t got it,
Can’t get it, forget it,
Forgot it, can’t stop it so
Better make the most of this crap.
She snaps the chatter in half
With her book and two hands,
Handily handing page after page,
Imagining freedom from TFL’s
No stick, stainless-steel, Tefal cage.
What’s her zone? What she pay?
Don’t get off. I want you to stay
Hungry, gobbling the words right off of the page
They’re lambs to the slaughter, and her
Wooly woolen jumper is conspicuously comfortable,
And durable, completely out of my price range,
It’s strange, but then…I am nearly broke
So her suede shearling coat,
Must surely be a gift from a father to a daughter?
Oughta try and score the author
Who’s linguistic net has caught her
Before the Bellini’s are even passed out.
It’s getting so hot in here, I wanna pass out,
Black out, black ops, adidas high tops,
Pride of place facedown on the underground
Groaning next to her three stripe shoes,
This is awkward, so what we gonna do?
Cos I think you’ll find they’re actually trainers, not shoes.
And I bet they’re soaking wet from the rain
And the sleet and the snow.
And when at home the radiator’s a no brainer,
Cos regardless of the costs,
She’ll work overtime to repay ’em.