Window Shopping
by Ben Ashwell
It’s about this time of year
That ladies begin to cheat,
Showing bra straps and bare chests,
Broad smiles and sunburnt legs.
I walked past a group of probably
Six of them today. My thin smile,
Half embarrassment, half self loathing,
Was met by tobacco sniggers.
When I looked down I saw my
Crumpled shirt was tucked inside
My jeans and had threaded itself through
My flies. A car drove past and the driver wolf-whistled.
I un-tucked my shirt
And the car pulled away
And the girls still sniggered.
Wouldn’t you know its summer?