Chicken Shop Double Date

and as we’re waiting for the wings to fry 

under halogen bulbs that spotlight the wipe-clean booths 

we reminisce of those nights 

that ended with a kiss on Magdalen bridge 

or a fumble in the cloisters with a stranger from a ball 

two lads (fresh meat) join our table 

as we talk loudly about our experiences with women 

and when they ask our age 

we dissolve helplessly into laughter 

the kind that only old friends understand, 

who traipsed that city backwards and forwards in costume 

to buy cheesy chips or for a crush, 

knowing each other’s history:

it’s like taking a walk under the Bridge of Sighs and lingering for a moment, to breathe.