On Leaving the Cinema

Bleary-eyed and dazed
I stumble into daylight,
not to be embraced
by some bosomy blonde,

nor to rapturous applause
of naive natives
grateful for the return
of historic treasures.

No microphones or flashes
fight to be the first
to capture proof
that virtue will vanquish all.

Instead, I meet a more feckless fate.

In the dampening drizzle,
I fumble for keys
amongst discarded tissues
and forgotten pennies.

I switch on the radio,
but no orchestra
celebrates my homecoming.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, darling
This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.