I Want No Part Of Your 1980’s Daydream

That soft parallel universe
Faxed to someone special,

The erotic retro buzz and click
Of unexpected surprise,

The dead eyed stockbroker
And the glamour model,

Bikini’s and calculated thunder,
Nightclub cardigans and valium,
Babycham and the horrors

And hollows that follow.

I want no part
Of your 1980’s daydream,

The permed hieroglyphics
Of style crimes
Chiselled into pebble-dash,

Synthesised car parks
Illuminated by ski jackets
And terracotta sunsets,

Puppet politicians
And their microwaved smiles,
A cornucopia of fakery

Groomed like a Portuguese stripper,
18 and studying maths.

Give me a humble cup of tea,

Pull down the blinds

And text me.