Two Fat Ladies 88 Poem by Mark Heathcote

Down at the local bingo club,
You’re precious free evenings were spent
Willing to spend your one last cent
…Powering nose …holding a stub.

With only time for one more hug,
Unpicking a stitch on your shirt:
Then hand-brushing crumbs off your skirt
Which couldn’t feed a mealybug?

Hunger remains on plate in girth
Still lacking daily substances
No size of win, even in bucketful’s
Fetch this woman some happy mirth.