In my glimpses of the harbour

apartment, I groom my Pomeranian

            Mummy’s puffy fur-angel

or sip another chamomile tea

breathe in, breathe out

give in, give out

and pluck the lint of daily irritations

from my well-cut coat

            of respectability.

A dose or two of diazepam

sends me afloat until

I’m fluff and fibre-free.

News and world won’t bother me. 
Returned to glow

lipstick set and blow

waved hair, legs crossed

at just the angle to admire

a slim ankle in Louboutin’s

            I wait for callers

            or something

or settle for sleep.   
From the balcony

way way down below

I see the shouting people shuffle

drop their suffixes

and dignities

climb over each other

like grubs, laugh too loudly

let themselves get fat

show their grimy bra straps.
So, I stay behind my screen

of gleaming glass

that the cleaner polished yesterday

and keep distance. Vivaldi

vodka and mother’s crystal

remind me how to rise

            when I have fallen

gagging on a mouthful

of wool-blend carpet

as I’ve snot wept

and clenched howls.