An incessant ring – ricochets
off cold button slappings –
leaves me rolled by misses
off others’ flickering wrists –
in a too-fucking-quickness
Punched untouchable parts
sing in summoned recoils
of ringtones – ready taunts
as another highest score rolls
against my own low tally
These lights and chimes
of mechanical retorts
wear down my defences
as my bent-to body flips
in my mind – fantasy ways
We keep quid balls rolling
We paddy-whack in arcades
of resized penny slots –
now upgraded to pounds
into adult-paying games