Silly Verse corner

by Alison Prince

A lament by one of London’s coin-in-the-slot bicycles accused of non-return to a designated stand

I was assaulted, sir. No token of

esteem slipped in my slot, just a quick screw-

driver to force me to his use, a shove

to get me going, then before I knew

it, he had mounted, riding as if cars

were in some other world. And I was not

asking for it, sir. My handlebars

can’t be called low-slung. And see, I’ve got

this little basket, too – I’m here to serve,

but some folk take advantage. My back tyre

was nearly flat, but all he did was swerve

past a police car like we were on fire

and round the back of Tesco’s, threw me down

and left me spinning helplessly. I lay

here till you came, sir. I’m so glad you’ve found

me. You’re a gentleman. I’m sure you’ll pay.

CD corner