Hughie thinks of sex without faces;
he often thinks this way
because there never was a welcoming face,
so he never had sex,
and this July he'll be 46.
Hughie lives alone and is settled in his ways;
people think him peculiar,
never ask him to join them in the pub
He is growing more peculiar, they say.
Hughie has an office job;
colleagues bid him good morning at coffee-break
but sit at a different table.
He eats his lunch in the Arms bar,
and always sits facing the wall.