by Chris Buchanan
Poetry, 2013
From the collection Growing Up Too Fast

—

It happens all at once. One day
you’ll wake up, wash and dress and say-
I really must do all that work
then make things neat and meet some jerk
for bitter drinks and uncooked meals
and flat, black suits and needled heels.
Then when the fateful day is done
and some old mate calls up, someone
will fart or tell a sweary joke
and you’ll say, well I don’t think that’s funny.