“He’s here! he’s there!
he’s every-fucking-where!
Roy Kent!”
The fictional football fans might be
singing about his performance on a
football pitch but I know what I’m
imagining,
Roy Kent’s hands and
tongue
could be here or
there,
I want them
Everywhere.
Thick
eyebrows
looking up at me,
running my hands through dark hair
Fuck
Heathcliff, give me the
dark, moody Roy Kent.
Maybe if he was really mine
I’d be like his girlfriend, furtively
wanking to the video of him
sobbing – emotional
intelligence will drive anyone wild.
But, watching the TV at home with
my husband I just briefly
fantasise that Roy Kent is on me:
here,
there,
everywhere
with a brooding stare.
Ellen Clayton is from Suffolk, England where she lives with her husband and three young children. Her poetry often focuses on motherhood and love. She has poems upcoming in Nightingale and Sparrow, and Corporeal, Gypsophila and Honeyfire literary magazines. Her poetry can be found on Instagram @ellen_writes_poems.