Hot Love

I've surprised myself by signing up for an Open University MA in Creative Writing - exciting and terrifying in equal measure. I've already started the suggested pre-reading which is a workbook, with practical exercises dotted through it,  so you can expect some poems prompted by these over the coming months! 

This one was to write about a specific event, using personal and cultural memories. Right up my street! 


Get it On, Jeepster, Metal Guru, Telegram Sam,
With his brown eyes and long dark curly hair,
Tight satin trousers, crazy top hat, glitter and guitar,
He'd stare at me dreamily from pocket money posters from Athena,
Pages torn from Jackie, pasted onto my psychedelic bedroom walls.
By night I would Ride a White Swan with my 20th Century Boy.

By day I was class swot, flanked by Marion, Rosemary, Catherine, 
As far from the popular girls as it was possible to get;
I kept to what I was good at, what was safe. 

So the invitation came as an electric surprise, a hint of danger,
To a house where the parents were out for the afternoon,
Not a party, just a group of three boys, three girls, 
Awkward just-teenagers, playing Postman's Knock in a front room,
Where I learned out in the hallway, how soft a boy's lips could feel, 
How hard it hurts, not to be invited again. 



© Copyright 2024. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved


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