To the girl on the train,
we are not thinking about fucking you.
We aren’t superstars.
Instead, to fall in love,
buy better shoes.
Following the drunks
from pub to pub.
Receding hair leaning on the bar.
No one has turned on the jukebox.
Who’s mum fucking died in here?
He goes to the gym with my sister.
Yeah. Nice one.
Are you an escort?
You are pretenders.