I remember beds with springs,

women ever soft, even petite,

love-making was a noisy affair

neighbours would have a treat

 

svelte then women did seem

slender was the salient word

they slipped out of their shifts

took time to get them stirred

 

first you snuggled to get warm

well before gas central heating

when you got into your rhythm

a thin mattress took a beating

 

that mix of squeaks and shrieks

kept your mind off other things

what became of cast-iron love?

whence went all those springs?

 

wish I'd kept my tape-recordings

of those rackets in audible beds

sylph-like women amid ecstacy

hard headboard bruised heads

 

now women look like amazons

having feet like manhole covers

on divans quiet as electric cars

pity mechanical modern lovers

 

balance of power's changed, I

no longer know where I stand

lying there I try to smile back

my manhood in that big hand

 

one wrong word and I'm over

as big Jennifer calls the shots

coiled up and ready to spring

as I grieve for hard old cots