Two gentlemen — this, at least,
We can confirm, that they are gentlemen —
Confer beneath the projector.
Whether they are here to critique,
Or come off-peak, like Tuesday noon,
Or bought out all two-sixteen seats
To secure themselves exclusive views,
We cannot say.
I only fear they come here for me,
To watch peel from my sweaty legs
The Batman pyjamas, to hear me,
In thought, curse the thermostat,
Which I am too tired to rise
And turn clockwise.
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