The Irate Cleaner who washed
her business in public, was once
quite sweet, her younger self
only bitter when it came to
the lies she readily told
each boy who dared like her,
as she waved her yellow duster around
as if it was some kind of regal artefact;
a certain reel to lure them in
and then treat them like dirt,
who questioned them too far
and who with a sense of gleeful spite
and not a tear recline
from her just outside Wrexham collapsed face