My first if it’s a poem


Throwing limes at Mohammad Ali.
Lying in bed of crisps
Half eaten sandwich by my side
And a woman on my mind

Grey flooding in the window
I’m out of cigarettes
No music from the speakers
And out of limes to throw at Mohammad Ali

Grandaddy in the air
They’re a band
Joint in the ashtray
Ali looking formidable
Woman on my mind