Armchair Theatre - Anne Clark

This house is full of loneliness

Of sad weary silence

I switch on the television

For some company

Two actors

A man and a Woman

Give exaggerated little moans

As they simulate

A so called stimulating f*ck

For my entertainment

Beneath the endless groans

It’s not real

It’s pretend

Just like we pretended that last time

To make you

Night is the most difficult part off all

I don’t need this

This vile, crude reminder

Of how we play out our roles

Without any script at all