when the sun
hating the cold dark mornings
hits snooze on the alarm three times
crawls out of bed grumbling
about stiffness in the joints
damp, a bunged-up nose,
is a bear with a sore head
till the coffee kicks in
last of the milk and the motivation

queues at the bus-stop in the rain
with the other heavenly bodies
doesn’t get a seat – again –
Mercury chattering on her mobile
about what Mars did
and how he loves her really
wise up, love
everyone knows what the boy’s like
anger-management issues
plain as the nose on his face
someone should tell him
sun bites his tongue
it’s not worth the aggro

then work, boss, office, drudge
same old same old
and the bus back home
Mercury sobbing in the corner

one day, sun tells himself, he’ll move somewhere better
do that sea, sand, tropical beach thing
Alpha Centauri always goes on about in her letters
but deep down he knows he lacks
the get-up-and-go
and when summer comes
he’ll be back down the park with a cold one
lolling about like always
making hay.