The last (lust?) word on whipping in to inner London in December for a quick Christ-messy weekend. Accommodating desires and accommodation can be uncomfortable.

Little Room For Love In London.

I’m not saying London’s dark and gloomy
Or that the Hotel Le Cubicle is less than roomy,
Or there’s no room within to swing a pussycat,
I don’t believe we can stretch credulity to that.

Should one find one who whets one’s sexual appetite
Don’t invite her back to share the night,
One will find oneself feeling like a monk
Unless she’s happy top’n’tailing in a bunk.

©Obbverse