A cleaned up version of an unfinished poem I found
I reckon I started this way back in 2011
He doesn’t listen to you, he doesn’t return your calls
He’s done one on you ain’t he?
Chewed you up and spat you out proper ain’t he?
And no message you spend in a bottle
Will ever reach his shores
You’ve been hustled out of your intimacy
You can’t stop going over the scenario
All the possibles and probably could’ves
The next holiday, your first child’s name
But you’ve been hoodwinked good and true
It pains me to see the pain crawl on your face
But I can’t help but succumb to a grin
This is the most I’ve ever seen you in a week
I always want to see you, but only now you agree
You can’t get the boy you want
But you can get me, I guarantee
You always had me whether you knew it or not
You had me good and proper you did
Cos I never feel more at home at all
Unless I’m sharing the same soil as you
As we see the day to an end
On a cul-de-sac hillside, wondering why
I know I’m not the working class atlas
I know I’m lagging on the witty pace
But nothing amounts to the glee
I feel when you’re in my vicinity
But maybe that’s just dead selfish of me
You might be better keeping me at bay
Sebastian Noël
Domestic Poetry 