James rolled his eyes inside the Fly

as we pulled down our glasses,

just a notch, enough to make the sentence

that passed round the table

to loud cheers

as football fans took

great delight in the opening goal,

to live and breathe in the land of innuendo.

 

The girl in ginger had long passed

off to another pub and we were left,

bereft upon the sea of groovy insinuation

and tied to the mundane,

until James, his wonderful

malapropisms and habit of ordering rum