Sunday, 10 April 2016
April Poems 2016/10
He stalks her facebook profile,
likes every post she makes;
every photo she uploads to the cloud
whether she marks it public or not.
He knows her mother's maiden name
the street she grew up on,
her first pet.
Her telephone number ends in oh-eight-eight,
her bank account in four-one-seven
and her passport in twenty-three-f.
He's photoshopped her into pictures,
replacing his mum at Blackpool Pleasure Beach,
and shows his mates the picture he took of her
naked from the waist up
that she sent three years ago to her then boyfriend
when he was serving in Afghanistan.
She told her bessie she thinks he's harmless.
He knows the exact words she used
and mouths them along with the video
he shot on her bedroom spy-cam.