For more than 20 years identity and gender were secret
an obvious pseudonym
located prominently at the front of the magazine
savaging BPs, almost BPs, and wannabe BPs
scattering sins and gossip like dog and excrement.
Close – very close to home
and the margins of libel –
or would be if truth was slander,
most shut up, rather than ask him, or her,
to put up.
Most reading the magazine turned directly to these pages
even if some did not admit
titillation could always be found
even when sounding tame or passé
. . .
“ heard it all before, right
ageing graying film director shacked up with
hot young starlet
abandoned the marital nest and moved in with the
pouting, steamy one
yawn yawn –
not a penis between them.”