WEST OF EAST TRIBUTE STREET

I’m staying on my own at The Angry Cheese 
watching this particular Seinfeld show from Season Nine.
Naturally the room that I’m in I assume to be mine 
untl the door bursts open admitting this dusted down couple
from East Tribute Street who’d made love between
these same sheets the night before – had taken their chances 
 – kept the key. So we became a three. All of which
was deeply annoying for me as it was that part of the show
when all the best stuff had just come on… Anyway…
she locks herself in the bathroom, he pulls out a gun…
and… I had very little to say other than: ‘you know it doesn’t
always have to be this way. Listen – I’m far too scared
to shout for help or try and phone – strikes me
what you two could both use is a room of your own’. 
So I emptied out what I had left which he took
away and the plan was thereby arranged – he even came next day
with two piles of nickels and dimes in change. All said ‘n’ done.
But I have to say, looking back on the whole thing, I can’t help thinking   
about where the moral’s hiding in all of this. Assuming there is one. 

Phil Bowen

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