the jog on joggers

” let’s do the bongo-laced
twenty-second album “

( nigel worthington )

sneaking up behind us
like a randy cellmate

breathe in deep
& don’t drop the soap

as we plod along songs
hands in pockets

rucksack straps
dangle at the back

they of horsey huffs
the bringers of b.o

stinking as they go
in sodden lycra tights

creeping in the night
hunting in the day

ambushing pedestrians
their unsuspecting prey

they of phlegmy snorts
the jog on joggers

darting round corners
like a boy racer

chasing sound’s barrier
joyriding cheetahs

sweating like a nonce
or a rabid hare

pavement or park path
– beware, beware, beware –

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