and there is no platform 9 3/4

I’m in a suing mood,
writ in the post
best suit, the one with stripes,
ironed with steam
for the day in court.
She stole my idea
put it in a book,
made a film
I know because I wear
it every day, it’s why
you and you
talk around me
why you have that silence
when you wait for the strange
voice to stop talking
so you can start. I’m
the guy in a red top
killed to make the hero,
the poem you might
have read while waiting
for the one on love.

Published in Morphog