“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.