I’m sitting at the top of the fire escape
in my pyjamas, thinking it’d be fun
to abseil down. With Pamela.
Pamela is Head Girl. I adore her thighs!
As she gallops along the hockey pitch
something inside me fizzes
like a Roman candle.
We will tie ourselves together
with dressing gown cords,
rope them to the topmost step.
Clasping each other’s waists
we’ll glide down through watching stars
and land in the middle of the Big Top
at one crack of the Ringmaster’s whip.