My clothes on radiators, window mist

The rain we hate but need spoils selfish fun

The floor a magnet for dirt, hair, food, dust

No wonder the flat sale’s gone flat; no-one

Wants that. Plates placed for lunch at half-past one

By her below. It’s not just me then, in

A gloomy box. This room of socks all hung

In to dry, before I get wet walking

To work in them next week. My poor leaking

Umbrella, I miss you. Since you were lost

Last week on that pub floor, I’ve been pissed on

Persistently, tubfuls poured, kitchen sinks

Cats, dogs keep falling on my head. Hood fixed

On my new black anorak - bring it on!