I never feel that ought I write is good enough for publication. Instead, I dream each night that I’m in print in all the nations. A poet can dream, of course, when the truth is mere blight. Though it surely would be better to sit my backside down and write.
The Metro Newspaper (free to commuters) has a section devoted to passengers sending messages to other passengers, in the hopes of finding true love. Or true lust, as the case may be.https://metro.co.uk/rush-hour-crush/
This poem was inspired by the following message: To handsome guy with the golden retriever who got off at West Brompton. Everyone was stroking your dog and all I wanted to do was stroke you. Fancy a drink? The Girl In Black, London
The passengers stroked your dog. All I wanted to do was stroke you in places that shouldn’t be shown on the train. What’s a horny girl to do?
Being a healthy hetero, I’ll write it in the Met-r-o.