Poem: Oblique

You gave me drugs,
You gave me wine,
You gave me a plate
Of microwaved chips.

We laid on your bed.
The sun scorched through the window.

You laid your favourite books
Out on the bed,
The books I had to read:

You explained why I had to read them.

I read them on the bus
On the way into work
And on the way back.

I loved them.

21 January 2008