I went on a sunny pedalo ride today,
I decided as I walked past the boating lake
On my way to work, in my pencil skirt and heels.
The man who took my money, he stared at me
As though he’s asking – are you really sure?
He pushed me out and I drifted as I placed my shoes
On the plastic seat next to me, sparkling
Like treasure on the lake, the sunshine warming up
My stockinged feet, enjoying stretching toes.
I closed my eyes, enjoying light that danced
On skin that was so office pale, bleached from screen-time,
Translucent so that veins are seen, threading under,
Stitching me into that plastic swan, and holding me
Out on the lake, regardless of the jobs I need to do,
Piling up within my wake, and sinking into inky depths,
With children’s joyous shouts that bounce across the lake.
I only come back to this world as I’m called back in,
The pedalo man, wildly gesticulating – come back now.
I wish this were a bigger lake, a river, and I could float away,
Ignore his calls and meet the estuary out west,
Freed into the sea with all the other birds
That never worry about their boss, their targets
Or their bloody car that will not start.
That’s what I thought about, the morning that
I hired a swan shaped pedalo on my way to work.