RIDER

That Lambretta –

sea green, slim-style Series 3 with disc brakes –

is what I want.

 

It must have the Innocenti mark:

cos being right is crucial

when dandy meets the lumpen.

 

In stingy brim and midnight blue mohair

I stay pressed, am buttoned down.

Loafers, basket woven, deck rocksteady feet.

 

Look, I have all the gear

and want to hear the two-stroke snortle

as – French Blue fuelled – I pull away.

 

Leave the job behind:

with mirrors see every dead angle

of each street corner.

 

Espresso smart, I must deviate.

Cherry-pick the best line

to a place we’ve never been.

 

Riding pillion, you can be

Jean Shrimpton – should you dare trust

Italian suspension.

 

Your heart, like a shield, sewn on my sleeve.

(Though I will polish out all trace

of fingernails on paintwork.)

 

Here's the weekend. Are you ready

to go missing underground?

I’m not prepared to wait.

 

vi. 2023  

Spilling Cocoa Over Martin Amis