Poem: On Weekends in 1989

A poem about the horror movie sleepovers when we were young

We watched horror films for the fun of
the scare, we didn’t dare admit that it
had terrified us; just needed to not go
to the loo. That was the secret to it all.

Otherwise it was a long, slow walk back
down the hall; transported to a real-life
arcade game. Which door would someone
be hiding behind? When was the jump scare

coming? We never knew. We all kick-started
a lot of hearts. We’d all laugh long and
loud in the end. We were such good friends.
Each sleepover on a lounge floor like

some bonus Christmas; maybe three or
four a year, if lucky Though each one
carried a sober version of a Boxing Day
hangover, like a goodie-bag to take home.