IMAGINING MATRON by Peter Phillips
What I got in the sick bay was a mixture of Hattie Jacques bossy and buxom and Rosa Kleb – the tip of her shoes poisonous and deadly. What I wanted was Anna from Denmark, who came from her parents little farm in Jutland and desperately wanted to meet we
What I got in the sick bay was a mixture
of Hattie Jacques bossy and buxom and Rosa Kleb -
the tip of her shoes poisonous and deadly.
What I wanted was Anna from Denmark,
who came from her parents' little farm in Jutland
and desperately wanted to meet well behaved,
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sixteen year old English boys. She'd look after us,
come and sit on the edge of my bed in her nightdress,
dab my brow fevered with excitement and ask,
with a smile, if there was anything else she could do.
But when I'd reach to touch a pale shoulder
and accidentally her breast, just at the point
of touching, she'd dissolve, go to another boy -
more worthy, like Harris the captain of football.
