A Friday afternoon
In the hairdressers
At the bottom of Beaumont Hill
A pleasant summer’s day walk
Down the unadopted lane
From Mon Plaisir
I was taught how
To scrunch my hair
Whilst I blow-dried it
This, by the young woman from Liverpool
Who also asked
Where it was that I was going that evening
In this way, one with one
May become a twosome
Or the twosome already
May recoil to one away from one
I don’t remember where the dance was
Or if we ever did make it
