Pat Jones


by Judith Graham

Alarm at seven, lie in bed till eight.
Get up and shower, put the kettle on.
Email, coffee, cigarette — I’m late.
Smoke another; twist a quick chignon.
Jacket, keys, the bus to City Road.
Plug the laptop, slide into the chair.
Meetings, email, spreadsheets, overload,
Software dramas, customer hot air.
Weekdays turn to night before I leave,
Sometimes Soho — movie, drinking, flirt —
At home — why not — a nightcap couldn’t hurt.
At midnight always one last send/receive.
     Life could be a richer brew than this
     But this one’s wholly mine: thus, bliss.

Judith Graham’s poems have appeared in A Return to Poetry 2000, Writers’ News, the New Statesman, 14 by 14 and Open Poetry Ltd’s 2008 anthology Hand Luggage Only. Raised in Western Australia, she lives and works in central London.