World-cup widows.

WORLD-CUP WIDOWS.
sneak.

'Whatever happened to romance?'
she sighs as I fart out loud.
She doesn't look impressed,
but I'm so very proud.
'I think it went to Margate'
I say facetiously,
whilst cleaning out another -
private cavity.
I try to watch the football -
as she moans about the smell.
My anti social bowel -
breaking yet another spell.
'Once you bought me roses -
and sparkling jewellery.
But now you give me sex aids -
that buzz furiously!'
Excitement rapes my senses.
He aims, he shoots, he scores!
adrenaline now pumping -
from emergency back-up stores.
'We could re-light the fire?' -
she says as I spark a fag.
My nerves disintegrating -
like a virgin to a slag.
'Some other time' I offer -
as I rally to the screen.
Praying for a miracle,
a World-cup holders dream.
Ecstatic in the moment.
Red, white and blue collide.
'I think I've gone to heaven'
I think I might have died.
'I'm ready for you baby'
I slur into her face,
awash in my repulsion -
as I stumble in disgrace.
'I'm going to my mothers,
she'll understand my pain'
Whilst offering apologies -
I break-wind once again.
'Go then! See if I care'
And don't forget your keys!
Such precious golden moments,
these World-cup memories.

sneak