Jus’ lookin’

by Susan Taylor

Hey hon,
I saw you
in London,
Earl’s Court. I swear
                          I cd have sunk
                          my teeth
                      in you;

struck
as if by
freeze-frame
in that             strange
                          commercial
                          place. You
                      disappeared
fast,
as I was
left
wondering      if you’d
                           heard me
                           say “My
                       God,
it’s…
(followed
by yr name
out loud).        I was working
                           for you then
                           but you,
                       remote,

The Editor.
I visited
yr offices
in Bath.            As there
                            was no
                           chair
                         for me,

I squatted
at your feet,
like Shee-
La-Na-Gig,       among
                            the slippery,
                            shiny covers
                            of yr mags.