I found him one luchtime in the office,
playing with a pack of cards,
the kind you could buy at the seaside -
crude colour photos of smiling girls
showing their breasts and backsides
and nothing else, in silly poses,
doing stupid things like
watering a plant or holding a ball.

And Harry looked up and said,
Just think if this Deirdre
were your daughter in a couple of years,
or this Jane were your wife
just a month before you met her.
Or if (and he paused, picking out
a special one) Susan were your mother
and you didn't know she'd done this.

The he tapped them all together
and slid them back in their little green box.
I must have looked surprised or worried,
or perhaps I just looked dumb,
but he stood up and offered me a cigarette,
which I took, though I didn't smoke.
I was twenty and not serious
and green as that box of cards.