tesco fairytale

hearts pledged in blood
and warm skin,
goosebumps and cheap cocktails,
early morning supermarkets
and movie stubs,
they ask the poets
when do the shrieks of anguish
and fainting fits
and true love’s kisses
come into play?
are the lake-side poems
and faces in the woods appearing soon,
or must we take clammy cold showers
till our feet freeze?
suffocate ourselves in multi-packs
and receipts
from meals we couldn’t really afford
when will flowers bloom at our touch
and our wounds heal
by the brush of a lover’s lips
or will we make do
with sharing umbrellas
and goodnight kisses
and walks under the stars
to collect high-street curries
in paper bags