I was never caught in catch and kiss.
My playground days were full
of Sarah with long blond hair,
clackers and elastics.
Gwen who flaunted auburn
plaits, British Bulldog, jacks
and Christine who gave
it up too easily. Yet I still played
forever the optimist.

Once they came to visit.
Cast critical thirteen year old eyes,
told me to hitch up my dress,
use a belt..Christ I still cringe
at the thought of that brownie
belt with its tarnished brass buckle.
I so wanted to be accepted.

I was shown how to toss over the bars
at the running circuit, knickers showing.
That's were the lads hung out and on
ocassions that's where you scored.
So there I dangled, seemed I dangled
for days, not scoring in my short shift dress,
navy knickers and pumps.
I was grateful they didn't take the piss.
They told it, showed it like it was.
All hormones and feathered hair.