Colin Bell
Margaret Thatcher

Drinks,
words,
blokish
politics.
A five minute chat
– the legendary monster, real.
Nice legs, they'd said, starlet's mouth but Caligula's eyes.
No one discusses Tony Blair's legs or Ted Heath's sexual allure.
Britain's Prime Minister grabs me a drink from a tray.
Whisky, like her's – with added ice.
Journalist party
seduction.
Supping
in
sin.