Wednesday, May 10, 2006

after the party

There are fourteen hundred and twenty things
I never said tonight.
Why am I here
Where did you go.
Dancers cross the room
Like pretty tinsel
On a special day,
And me,
Well I’m propping up a wall
With my good friend Mike,
As he drinks canned lager
From his offy bag,
And throws gentle barbs out into the air
With a tongue of grey
And a heart as soft
As new mown hay.
I tried to make peace
With the superficial
And the gay,
I moved with the rest
To salsa
And French music.
But I hate salsa,
Cos it makes me feel
So English,
And I didn’t
Want to turn on the charm,
I didn’t want to have to say
Fourteen hundred and twenty things
That I didn’t say
“I found a new book, it changed my life today”.

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