By: Lynn White

Rock Star

He looked mean and sullen.
Perhaps he thought it befitted his rock star image.
Or perhaps he thought it would distract from the acne,
which was a bit of a shock, to be honest.
He looked too ordinary to set any teen’s heart throbbing.
But he wrote “To Vicky” and signed his name,
which would have been fine apart from
the dribble of ink down the front of her dress,
her favourite pale orange shirt-waister,
saved up for from her mum’s Gratton catalogue.
He must have noticed, surely.
“Look what tha’s done”, she said
showing him the damage.
He gazed sullenly at the floor.
He may have been a rock star
but he had acne and a leaky pen,
and the damage should be acknowledged.
“Look what tha’s done”, she said more loudly,
only to still be ignored
by the rock star with the acne and the leaky pen.
So she followed him round the room
warning everyone of the hazard.
He may have been a rock star
but he had acne, really bad acne
and a leaky pen
and he really was mean and sullen.
She made sure everyone knew it.

That was how they both discovered that nobody liked his music any more.

###

Same Difference

The rain was torrential,
the ground so waterlogged
that we had to put boards
under the tent.
They had a big stack of them
ready
for such an eventuality.
And this was Innsbruck
in August.
It was more like the English
Lake District.
We had expected better!
And we were kept awake
all night
by partying Scots
in the nearby tents.
It was just like the English
Lake District.
We had expected better!

###
To Break The Mould

She tried hard to break the mould
she that she could rise anew.
But it wouldn’t break.
She emerged
the same
each time,
cold as stone.
Statuesque.
So she broke the stone.
Smashed the statue
with a hammer.
Broke it
in two.
After that,
it was easy to break the mould.