15th June

It is my birthday.
I am cushioned by French teenagers
Rifling playing cards.

It is my birthday.
I know my dad will buy me chick lit
And I will have to smile.

It is my birthday.
I try to imagine a cocoon
And I am a coach dwelling larvae.

It is my birthday.
The driver dumps six
On a slip road.

It is my birthday.
I step inside last year's
Which was better.