If I had kissed

some of those guys who sat opposite me
on the tube, when I had the sudden urge
(but sadly not an irresistible
one), I do wonder what would have happened.

The sad-looking red-head in a suit - I
remember hoping that he had a gap
between his two front teeth if he smiled.

Or the beautiful punk with a face full
of metal, with whom I exchanged glances
and maybe he hoped we were going to
the same place that night as well (but we weren't).

The boy with the pretty face and the long
fringe, who seemed to appreciate my choice
of rather pretentious book, and had a
pleasing air of bashfulness about him.

If I had just leaned over and kissed them
on the cheek, or even the lips perhaps,
someone could have at least gone home and told
somebody about it, and so could I.