Sunday, 10 July 2011

Second Thoughts – Seconded

I am now in receipt of your poem of July 10
But I really am not sure that I can consider you again
A seconds thought I haven’t even given you for your heartless crime
And if I could, I would give you, even less time
I admit that things have since not gone entirely my way, which is to say
That my position has now become somewhat, well quite a lot, worse
As will become apparent, in this plangent tear stained verse.

The blond bimbo who seduced me and promised such sexual heaven
Has cruelly deserted me for an estate agent called Kevin
I see that your capacity for vitriol
Is clearly undiminished
And you still delight in humiliating me
Even though we are still finished

You complain that my fingers did not caress
That my hands were slow to roam,

Well maybe, perhaps rightly

But that is the irrefutable effect of a
Neck high cotton winceyette nightie,
You see – and weird ,genital jewellery……….
That rattled, while on, you endlessly prattled
About something or another
Invariably my mother
Which was not nice or wise
But that woman you despised,
For seeing through your tricks and your lies
She would cut you down to size
Which was not a ten as you used to fantasize
But a few sizes larger……………………
And although you tried desperately to shine and impress
That Harvey Nicks bag still held a skirt from BHS

Not that there were not some good times

Seeing you fast asleep, past a door ajar peeping
I loved you most of all then – because you were not speaking
Jehova’s witnesses feared our house
And salesmen would not call
For they knew that if they solicited you
They would leave with bugger all.

You’re intensely annoying, and bolshy and brash
But without me you would have so little to lash
When writing’s a chore and you scream in frustration
I act as your muse and help with punctuation
Although sometimes I find your caustic words riling
I have to confess, that they can also leave me smiling
You’re the mistress of mean and of cold-hearted looks
But it’s me that secretly buys out all of your books
And although first you said ,”I don’t” and not, ” I do”
Your witty entreaty means I now ,” just might” too.

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