Tube strikes didn’t care at all that day.
Sprinting from Piccadilly to Gower Street,
you’re in the interview of your life all sweaty gotta pee what is oxygen,
with the residential nerves all dragged out from the run.
Get home, get the sniffles from the February showers,
oversleep the alarm again, back to water diet, resort to social media
for entertainment, sneezing your way to a freshly posted ad:
LOOKING FOR COLUMNIST FOR MAGAZINE
Yet you’re still too tired to fulfil your fourth promise
to support your star-studded friend in her singing pageant.
Turns out the world just wasn’t ready for you to meet her band
and her singer friend who’ll you’ll fall in love with come September.
Look out the curtain, spring is peeking through the clouds,
unemployment cuts your schedule to nothing, but you have the bus money for it.
Check with your friends down Roehampton for some laughs,
and you forget what was so bad all along.
First published on Parallel Ink Issue 2, Vol 2 (2014)