Beautiful. He is indicative of all that is right with the world.
Spring is here, I pick fresh yellow buttonholes and wear them with pride.
Bass thuds up floorboards. Get your raga on and drink beer in the basements.
Drunken and giddy, we fall fast against brick walls as we kiss and kiss.
You are tender and, we make the best kind of love every other day.
Each day opens slowly but the nights are folded up and concentrated.
They recognise me in the corner shop and pass me milk, bread and eggs.
Pink cotton knickers slip down my pimpled legs and we’re at it again.
Our kitchen table is flooded with stale food, and scraps of our lives.
Some people say that thumbing through old photographs can hurt. Remember that.
Friends, boyfriends, brothers- all the best men I’ve known love Radiohead.
In my room I dance to soul music because I can move best this way.
Jemima Foxtrot
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