‘Click click click
the tongue kicks back as the plosives
prick another obscenity from the back of the couch
it might make you mad
it might make you sick.
No no no
is the falling wail from last night’s hero
just a grubber now (no way back from 4-0 down)
he’s turned quiet red
he looks quite thick.
is the single shout
which nearly drowns the moaning out
he tries to dance
he takes the mick.
Oh fudge this!
the chorus cries as finally they open their eyes
to see that the clock is nearing morn
‘good game’ they chime
with bitter scorn.’