Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

It's all about planning
Arrive early
And    relax
Survey my newly acquired territory
But first it's mind over bladder
A little applied pressure
And good it won't be
The trousers under the hand warmer routine
I can      relax
And who banned smoking and encouraged the
                               hamburger?
Would it be considered assault with a deadly
                               weapon
If applied with force?
And here they come in procession
Clutching popcorn Gifts for their celluloid gods
Perhaps I will kick it out of their hands
And it will rain down on them
Smelling sweetly
Sadly not napalm
No
I'm here to    relax
Good thankfully the intelligentsia have arrived
Well trained in the art of
Silent sweet unwrapping
A good education teaches you that
Even better
A blonde heading my way
Good
But no
She's carrying
Crisps
A bag of King Edward's
Eager to reign supreme in the crunching stakes
Oh no
She's going to sit in front of me and
She has big hair
I fart!
Alone again
I begin to    relax
Pray for pigmies with crew cuts
Bearing a gift of a blow pipe
Which I will use on
The man with the mac
Enjoying his own company a little too much
At the end of my row...
But now oh no
Lovers about to do the let's pretend
we're Siamese
Thankfully they hear the back row calling
More than I can say for the "I'll spoil the plot"
                              specialist
Two rows behind
Well I've got just the plot for her
Unfortunately I didn't bring my spade
I need a ca-cough-Annie of sound around
To drown out her story
I will concentrate on how to spell ca-cough-annie
And surely I will    relax
Thankfully it's an 18
No children
Hopefully they are still in detention
Better yet detention centres
But oh for the halcyon days
When you could hear their happy coughs
As they productively cleaned chimneys
I am feeling more     relaxed
C.A.C.A.C.O.P.H.O.N.Y
Good
The lights are fading
I am almost alone
I think I am     relaxed
The music strikes up
The filmic equivalent to a first class bore
Is anyone keen on
Pearl and Dean?
But no, what's happening?
Latecomers
From all sides
Armed with barrels of loaded popcorn
I've been caught unawares
It's too dark for the
'I could be a wierdo' look
I am nearly surrounded
I am not    relaxed
I can no longer hold centre ground
I will retreat, with style...
I crunch two toes
Maybe four
It's almost poetic as I even the score
The well rehearsed
I am sorry
As the elbow goes in
It's a cacophony of apologies
Escape is just
An exit sign away
I demand to see the manager,
say I'm worried
I have smelt gas.

I am     relaxed.