Friday 5 March 2010

Typecast

Perfect, hold it, now look
At me.
Can you do sad?
Your mother’s got bowel cancer.
Your girlfriend miscarried.
Your dad’s been convicted
For child sex crime.
Perfect, hold it.

Now look at me.
Let’s see the smile.
More teeth,
More gum,
Perfect, hold it.
Think of breakfast in St Maxime.
Driving a BMW convertible
From Rome to Sicily.
Sinatra singing at your wedding.
Perfect, hold it, hold it.

Can you do pensive?
Let me see intellectual digestion.
Perfect.
You’ve just read Finnegan’s Wake.
You’ve just slept at Picasso’s.
You wrote a new poem.
Now look at me.

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