The Letter of Reality.

“In reality, we live in a redbrick

But the betting shops are nearby

And the people round here.

It doesn’t make sense with

The Blair Witch Project video

Which I’ve watched too many times

As I keep seeing those girls in town

With the dream-catcher, hand holding, herbal tea

Ways to fool me into thinking that this world is split,

Even if just for a while.

I’m not sure I should be saying this,

But my heart is beating so much at my joy

And my two earlier spliffs,

Or some love that you’ll never quite give

Which makes me sweat.

Sweat in my jumpers, my blazer, short-sleeve shirts

To which I challenge any brave history teacher.

Another winter in Hull.

 

I walked past the rich houses earlier.

I looked in, saw a man with his feet up,

And wondered if he felt immediate shame

At my hooded cower. It was cold, after all

And then that woman looked into me in that dark bit of the street,

She probably felt threatened.

And then I wanted to pick her up and say how wonderful this night is,

And the true love I have for strangers, because…

Strangers are where love lies. Strangers is the only future.

And I don’t even know if it’s a good idea I’m saying this

But write back soon.”

 

The man impressed people with correspondence he’d had with the greats.

He had some good years abroad and could be overheard at parties commenting that he

‘Didn’t trust anyone who’d never had some same-sex attraction’, and quips of the like.

He became an English teacher at some point,

And didn’t even realise till he was 50.

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2 comments
  1. You care of craft is impressive and humbling. excellent work.

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