298. privates on parade
sticky remnants of dreams
of nightmares
cobwebs on my face –
I brush them away
as I realise that I’m
not lying on a beach after all
but sitting cross-legged
in full Hungarian national costume
in school assembly
– the white frothy skirt
with red & green piping on the hem
keeps springing up
with a mind of it’s own
& I’m gathering in armfuls of voile
holding it down
trying to hide my shame
– a boy in a girl’s skirt –
and all because
mum had left the ironing too late.
again.
At least she could have done the knickers.