24 JUNE 1966, Page 22

That Awful Girl

'It wasn't me. I wasn't there' And then your eyes begin to shift Searching the smoke-filled room as if To seek aid in this questionnaire.

But no one comes. The red-haired clown Shuffles his feet, grins by your side. Your knowing eyes are open wide. 'It wasn't me. I'm not to blame.'

You never are. Men seize and pillage But that's their folly, not your shame. You fling yourself into their arms But you were drunk. They took advantage.

More honest when your breasts fell out, You groaned and writhed in ersatz glee.

'That awful girl. It wasn't me.'

You had the fun. Admit your fault PHILIP HOBSBAUM