Looking for Love in London

A girl’s bag split, cascading groceries,

I picked them up: fruits, tinned cans, churning fizz.
Her thankyous wrought hopes of the closest kiss
Mocked-up that night – one for my pillow’s list.

A girl riding the tube read books I liked,

Her fashion sense, her scent – I had her psyched!
By Charing Cross, words planned, my tongue fire-miked
She got off, swamped by yellow-rucksacked tykes.

My feelings now consumed by failure’s rues,

I grabbed a sandwich, strayed to Waterloo
Where, under its famed clock, a plum breakthrough!
A girl approached and said “Hi! My name’s Sue.”

“The man in ‘Cupid’s Column’ – Are you Sid?”

She waved a circled ad past dazed eyelids.
“Erm… yes!” I lied, “and I’m quite good with kids.”
“That’s nice,” she smiled, “but still, it’s eighty quid.”