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.