if i was 2 write a poem –
no
if
no –
hold on
if
i was
to marry you
have your baby
carry your luggage
through Heathrow
trust
allowing me to trim your moustache
u trimming my sideburns
-
throwing out used collected tampons
-
hiding the remote
letting u throw your farts at me
the UFO sized plug –
drain cover –
listen to it whistle
as the water
trickles
down
in its insides
too small –
the hole
too big
to plug
i will sit on it
no that’s not grease
from a sausage roll
-
don’t shake your fist
it reminds me of –
that is
a
water print
from
my scribbling hand
love is
burping freely
no longer keeping hid
typical –
bodily
what
typical
functions of the body
shitting
putting loo roll down first
pissing
the door shut
eating
with fist to mouth
chewing silently -
do it loud enough now to –
wind you up
watch you go
love is heedless laughter
wonder
you are
disgustingly lovely –
my dear
give us a kiss no no not an
elbow in my ribs
are u drunk
yes ioz’m drunk
look it is almost happy hour
pisshead
yourself
would you rather
i listen
to your
snoring fits
n starts
this won’t make sense later
i’m always trying to be somebody
as if i don’t quite fit myself
i quiver
in this shell \of
flesh bones
clumsy –
difficult to control
who reads the instructions
i don’t understand Japanese
i learnt French –
in school
but
now all i can remember is
bonjour
and oral examinations
which were never what
i thought they may be
and an enthusiastic teacher
who had
a voice which
boomed
and he was
expressive
in his gestures
manner of a pm
mp
seemed to like me-
he left suddenly
a lot of people –
familiar faces
have left me
without say so
as if i didn’t need to be aware
of
their leaving but kind faces-
encouraging voices
do not often stay
eventually
they leave
me
with their lessons
have i taken any of it in –
still i walk
the darkened pathway.
no
if
no –
hold on
if
i was
to marry you
have your baby
carry your luggage
through Heathrow
trust
allowing me to trim your moustache
u trimming my sideburns
-
throwing out used collected tampons
-
hiding the remote
letting u throw your farts at me
the UFO sized plug –
drain cover –
listen to it whistle
as the water
trickles
down
in its insides
too small –
the hole
too big
to plug
i will sit on it
no that’s not grease
from a sausage roll
-
don’t shake your fist
it reminds me of –
that is
a
water print
from
my scribbling hand
love is
burping freely
no longer keeping hid
typical –
bodily
what
typical
functions of the body
shitting
putting loo roll down first
pissing
the door shut
eating
with fist to mouth
chewing silently -
do it loud enough now to –
wind you up
watch you go
love is heedless laughter
wonder
you are
disgustingly lovely –
my dear
give us a kiss no no not an
elbow in my ribs
are u drunk
yes ioz’m drunk
look it is almost happy hour
pisshead
yourself
would you rather
i listen
to your
snoring fits
n starts
this won’t make sense later
i’m always trying to be somebody
as if i don’t quite fit myself
i quiver
in this shell \of
flesh bones
clumsy –
difficult to control
who reads the instructions
i don’t understand Japanese
i learnt French –
in school
but
now all i can remember is
bonjour
and oral examinations
which were never what
i thought they may be
and an enthusiastic teacher
who had
a voice which
boomed
and he was
expressive
in his gestures
manner of a pm
mp
seemed to like me-
he left suddenly
a lot of people –
familiar faces
have left me
without say so
as if i didn’t need to be aware
of
their leaving but kind faces-
encouraging voices
do not often stay
eventually
they leave
me
with their lessons
have i taken any of it in –
still i walk
the darkened pathway.
✱✱✱
| Katie Lewington is a UK based writer and has been drafting, editing and rewriting her bio since she started submitting to literary magazines and journals two years ago. It isn’t as if she doesn’t know who she is, she just isn’t sure what is relevant. Her creative writing can be read here and here. She can be contacted through Twitter @idontwearahat |
