That Day You Walked Into My Room & I Was Naked & You Said You Didn't Really Mind But Now It's 20 Years Later & You Say That Actually You Find My Lack of Body Hair Unnerving & The Tattoo On My Back Has Dispirited Your Clitoris

I was a fastidious otter without a towel, prey.
You were a judgmental eagle, predator.
Two decades of gestating revulsion and two children later,
You are finally about to make a meal of me.

I have fair hair, I am not a "bald, freakish twat"!
I got the tattoo when Lighthouse Family were cool!
You could have said something.

I was completely exposed in my towel, I was moisturising.
My back rippled as Tunde Baiyewu mouthed Ocean Drive.
You should have said something.

You got the kids and the house, clever fox.
I got the CD collection and diagnosed with 'Adonis Complex', forlorn rabbit.
Twenty years gone and two copies of 'Falling Into You' later,
I have been consumed.

Look At Your Thumbs

I remember learning from Paul Simon, not the one with the carpet shop.
I remember him teaching us about the ways of the world.
Syncopated ruminations on daily toil and plebeian graft,
He was Atlas holding up the sky with chords.

I learnt about The Myth of Fingerprints and the former talk show host,
Every finger or thumbprint is distinct.
Individuality incarnate and humanity humbled,
Rhyming Simon say topographical swirls define our lives.

A small, Italian plumber has worn away my uniqueness,
A swift, blue hedgehog has erased my identity.
Digits enslaved to a Phrygian cap wearing swordsman,
Appendages transformed to tools for weaponised karts.

Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A Start,
I've managed to land the monkey right on the 100!
Seven hundred and forty six hours spent attaining virtual glory,
We heroes painted the city blue and saved the Graydians.

Look at your thumbs,
Can you see the spirals that make you who you are?
Look at your fingers,
A lifetime of collecting valueless coins has left us ghosts.

Over the mountain down in the valley lives a former human being,
Abandoned now just like the high score.
There is no doubt about it, it was The Myth of Fingerprints,
I've seen them all and now mine are no more.

Using Fingerprints to Describe Schrodinger's Cat

Woke up and found a drawing of a dockyard on my neck,

I could still feel the pressure where someone had etched it onto my skin.

I craned and strained and cricked and hiked my neck in front of the mirror,

I could just make out the lobster pots.

I asked my girlfriend to tell me more about it,

She told me it was dull and looked like shit.

I reminded her of the butterfly tattooed on her ankle,

She gave our relationship a month.

Ageing tyres dressed in slimy green gowns,

Prevent my prow from hitting the sides.

Rusty ladders with far too few rungs,

Allow me to clamber up into the dry.

Is this dockyard in my mind? Is it Ramsgate in August?

Was it sketched on my neck as a sign?

I can't read all of it yet but I know there's a dry dock,

I wonder if that's where timber is allowed to dream?

Woke up and found a drawing of a playground on my neck...

Got arrested.