St Valentine’s Day Mascara

Monkey Waiting for a Kiss

I gave my heart to you, my love
One February night
Invoking all the saints above
I prayed you’d hold it tight.
And after we had made romance
For, that’s what I still call it,
You gave me such a loving glance
Then made off with my wallet.
The next day you were seen at lunch
With someone we both know.
Now, looking back, I have a hunch
My best friend’s your new beau.
According to my Visa bill
You both then saw a play
A great night out is greater still
If one needs never pay.
Faced with costly overruns
From two hearts hewn from stone,
On my part, not to be outdone
I hacked into your phone.
And so, my love, for us it ends
As does your victory lap
For, you’ve just messaged all your friends
To say you’ve got the clap.

Roll, Play

My love, you’re a Tahitian girl

That dances on the sand

Who charms the breeze with every twirl

And gesture of her hand.

My love, you’re absinthe through the veins

Each time my lips are kissed

A cruel elixir bringing pain

Which no man can resist.

My love, to me you are a song

Whose chorus fills the air

Inviting men to sing along

Allaying their despair.

My love, your powdered skin’s as soft

As petals on a rose

Its luring scent designed to waft

With each layer you expose.

Alas! Another’s at your door

I thank you for your art.

In truth, our love’s a game, no more

And you have played your part.

Stalk Options

My stalker’s released more nude photos of me.”

“How’s your hair in them?”

“Fabulous. I’d just had it done.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Laverne slid her phone across the table.

“You owe him one,” I agreed, swiping through a considerable collection of images. “Maybe you should get him something.”

“Like what?”

“Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“What makes you think he’s into Valentine’s Day?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“But I wouldn’t know what to get him.”

“Does he have someone special in his life?”

“Not since he killed all the members of his church group, no.”

“Any hobbies?”

“Skulking amongst the shadows?”

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“Besides that.”

“Photography, I suppose.”

“Then why not get him some lens wipes?”

“I’m sure we can do better than lens wipes,” Laverne frowned.

“Let’s keep going then… would it be fair to describe him as outdoorsy?”

“Yes! And now that I think of it, he could do with a decent winter coat,” she suddenly brightened.

“My neighbours are in a cult if you’re looking for something with a hood.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Did I mention it’s detachable?”

“It’s just… I don’t want to cause offence.”

“To someone who’s photographing you through your fence,” I felt obliged to remind her.

“I see where you’re coming from.”

“Didn’t he once write that on a CookieGram?”

“Right before I reversed over him in the driveway.”

“Putting all of that to one side, what were you doing running naked through the forest at 3am?”

“The dog had let the cat out again,” Laverne chuckled. “They’re worse than the kids, those two. I should have gotten a fish tank. Anyway, enough about me; what’s new with you?”

“I’ve decided I want to give back to society.”

“Oh, God…”

“Now, I know what you’re thinking but this time I’m serious. I’m going to make 2026 my Year of Philanthropy.”

“Well, you’re on your own then because no one’s getting any of my money,” Laverne sniffed.

“I don’t need money; what I need is a project.”

“Why not just join a gym like everyone else?”

“Because until just now I wasn’t aware that I needed to.”

“I’m just thinking back to the incident in the park.”

“That dog should have been leashed.”

“You wrestled it for a Tootsie Roll.”

“Which I’d bought.”

“Which you’d dropped.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a recession on,” I pointed out, dignity still intact.

“Okay. Forget I even mentioned it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“It doesn’t even matter because you’re nice on the inside and that’s what counts. When I was growing up there was a fat family on our street and they were really nice too.”

“I want their names. All of them.”

“Their dog was called Cupcake, I remember that much.”

“Keep going.”

“My point is, they were just like everyone else.”

“Just not worth knowing personally,” I addressed the elephant in the room.

“John, you have the rear molars of a hyena. I’ve watched you crush femurs like they were toothpicks.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve seen cleaner kills on Animal Planet.”

“Speaking of which, did you catch it on Monday? It was about these sharks that sleep. I think they were in Mexico. I have never, ever heard of sharks sleeping before.”

“That’s because they don’t,” I was informed.

“Sharks don’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Then what were these ones doing?”

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“During ratings week they whack a few in the head to make them appear cute and cuddly.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m afraid not,” Laverne shook her head in dismay.

“But that’s barbaric.”

“So is seeing a camera-woman being bitten in half during a live feed. The only thing those sharks were sleeping off was a Grade 3 concussion.”

“Is that what happens on Love Island?”

“Totally different.”

“How so?”

“They’re all brain-damaged to begin with.”

“How do you know so much about concussed sharks?” I was curious.

“I wanted to be a marine biologist, but back then women couldn’t join the Marines,” Laverne sighed.

“Why not become a Navy SEAL?”

“I hate seafood.”

Tough, Love

“I need to get into shape for spring,” Laverne announced, “so from now on, instead of taking elevators I’m going to try escalators.”

I bit my lip.

“You want to say something, don’t you?” she scrutinised me over her menu.

“And your recourse when there are no escalators… might that be stairwells?”

“Helipads.”

“Right then, what are we ordering?”

“Ham and eczema from the looks of it,” Laverne motioned towards a waitress scratching an itch with a Mastercard.

“Owen recommended the steak pie, so I might try that,” I remained undeterred.

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“A little red meat won’t kill me.”

“No, it’s not that,” Laverne leaned across the table, “I don’t know if I trust Owen anymore since he… you know…”

“… went on holiday and came back married?”

“If you can call some old hippie waving a bong over them on a beach in Ko Samui a wedding ceremony,” she rolled her eyes.

“Is his new wife Thai?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Laverne tutted, looking for the sommelier.

“Well, have you asked her?”

“She probably doesn’t speak English,”

“How would you know if you haven’t even asked her?”

“How could she tell me if she doesn’t?”

“What are we having for lunch?” I gave up.

“I think I’ll have the linguine in the hope that it will be brought to me by a handsome, Tuscan waiter in need of an outrageously unwarranted tip.”

“What if he doesn’t speak English?”

“Then I’ll just have to marry him,” she smirked. “Anyway, what’s new with you?”

“My crème brûlée torch is completely out of control.”

“Are you kidding me with this?”

“I wish I were. Come dessert time, it’s now every man for himself.”

“Honestly, John, you really do need to toughen up.”

“What makes you think I’m not tough?”

“Real men are killed by antlers, not kitchenware,” Laverne sniffed.

“I’m just as tough as you,” I began to feel a tad defensive.

“Prove it,” came the challenge from across the table.

“Okay… at work, I informed Zoe that if she doesn’t start contributing her share of the milk, I’ll be kicking her out of the coffee club.”

Laverne stared at me, her eyes narrowing.

“I waterboarded my godson to prepare him for Cub Scouts.”

“Andrew?” I asked, in disbelief.

“No, the little fat one who eats all the Lego,” she explained. “Andrew, I made dig a network of tunnels beneath the neighbourhood.”

“What does it take to be a godparent?”

“Godliness,” Laverne stated, matter-of-factly.

“And exactly which god-“

“-Sekhmet.”

“I don’t stand a chance against you, do I?”

“You never did, pumpkin.”

Everyone’s a Critic

In ancient Athens, lived a man who did not suffer fools

Who scorned the rich and powerful, disparaging their rules.

Renouncing laws and social norms from which he felt exempt

Diogenes The Cynic viewed convention with contempt.

He called an earthen jar his home, forgoing earthly goods

Promoting a philosophy which few Greeks understood:

We need not work! Food should be free!

We’ve been robbed of our liberty!

A dog needs only food and sleep

So, worry not about your keep!

Revolting, in more ways than one, he never bathed and took great fun

In mocking local passersby unlucky to have caught his eye.

Once Philip, King of Macedon, discovered what was going on

He fetched him from the marketplace to meet this heckler, face to face.

Philosopher, comedian, Diogenes first drew him in

Then seized the moment to berate the trappings of the civil state.

The king considered all he’d heard and pledged Diogenes his word

That he would try to make life fair for all his subjects everywhere.

Then Philip’s son, the Late & Great, who relished seminal debate

Next headed for the rebel’s lair to bump heads in the open air.

Soon Alexander found the spot and asked Diogenes his thoughts

On justice, kings and slavery to test his rival’s bravery.

Diogenes, quite unafraid, lamented: We have been betrayed.

The reason for our very birth is to enjoy fruits of the earth.

Young Alex, in your palaces, you drink from golden chalices

While I do nicely in this jar… am I no better than you are?

And now you claim to be divine, directly drawn from Zeus’s line

Yet, as I spy your horse nearby I fear, like you, it cannot fly.

The Great One knew he’d met his match, aware that he would never catch

A cynic who cared not for kings, nor for the folly each reign brings.

Amused, young Alex asked his host which thing in life he wished for most:

Was it a wife? Slaves of his own? Or simply to be left alone?

Reclining in the summer breeze, his eyes now closed, Diogenes

Admitted there was only one: for Alex not to block the sun.