By Stan Skinny
Lockdown was tough for some
They’d been socially distant for years
isolating in separate rooms of the house
only really coming together
for the essentials
‘What type of bread do you want?’
Have you filled in that council tax form?
The showers leaking again, can you ring Phil?’
She longed to be infected,
to be close enough to someone to be coughed on.
The mask had slipped down long ago.
And now they were stuck indoors together
tracking and tracing their past mistakes.
Lockdown was tough for some.
Iron
I haven’t ironed anything for two months.
How can I explain to the iron what’s going on?
It probably thinks I’ve given up on myself
That I can’t be arsed to look crisp any longer
That dressing gowns never need ironing.
Judgemental bastard
Everything is quite alright with me, actually pal.
I’m handling this all perfectly fine.
If anything, I’ve surprised myself with how well I’m coping.
On my own. In the house. With no one to talk to but kettles and irons.

Stan Skinny is a writer, poet, illustrator and comedian. Heralding from the literary city of Lichfield he found his spiritual home in Sheffield.
He has performed across the UK, with some the leading spoken word performers including; Roger Mcgough, John Hegley and Hollie Mcnish. He is three time winner of both the Off the Shelf Poetry Slam and the Great Yorkshire Show Off and once beat Sean Bean in the post-it-note game.
Iron. Such a lovely verse. I would follow shortly with “dressing gown”……I bet it’s still also struggling to understand the sudden attachment to it…. And why all of a sudden its the favourite of all the clothing….and being judged by the iron.
Love this! Yes, dressing gowns do not require crispness, although I’m getting a bit tired of wrinkles. I’ve also written a poem about talking to household objects. It should appear here on Oct. 14.
I love Lockdown Was Tough for Some; ‘longed to be close enough to someone’ so heartbreaking and pertinent for these times.