On Rolling Stock

On rolling stock

Sat mirthing rabble.

Chuckling, grinning

Geese; a gaggle.

Cackling witches;

Perms and hairspray

Not a word I think they daren’t say.

Hairdryers, highlights, husbands

Dongs, dirt, desires and dildos.

Filthy tarts, their laughter chronic

Have another gin and tonic.

A wry smile becomes this face of mine

When youth get blamed for moral decline.