They’re nestled there, on the top shelf
Some so dirty they have to hide themselves
In plastic sleeves, white and innocent
In a desparate attempt to hide
Their jiggling breasts and other unspeakables
And the people who buy them
Look around – shifty – hoping nobody sees them
As they reach up on tiptoes
And pay up in loose change
Hoping that wives won’t know
Won’t find the secret that lurks in the glovebox.
We had a bit of a chuckle in the staff meeting today because the librarian had signed up the school to a digital library. She was proudly telling us all about the service and how staff could also use it.
She told us that the books on their are all for young people but there would be access to ‘adult magazines’. She paused as she realised how that sounded and everybody feel about laughing as we imagined something very different to Horse and Hound or Country Homes.
I can imagine that access to porn magazines wouldn’t have gone down too well in our Catholic school, which kind of made it even funnier. So I thought I’d write a little poem as an ode to the naughty magazine. Enjoy…