Sunday, November 06, 2005

who says poetry isn't relevant to modern life?

Pick up the phone before its too late
And dial my number. There's no time to spare --
Love is already turning into hate
And very soon I'll start to look elsewhere.

Good, old-fashioned men dykes like you are rare --
You want to get to know me at a rate
That's guaranteed to drive me to despair.
Pick up the phone before it is too late.

Well, wouldn't it be nice to consummate
Our friendship while we've still got teeth and hair time to spare?
Just bear in mind that you are forty-eight We can't afford to deliberate
And dial my number. There's no time to spare. Cause I live here and you live there.

Another kamikaze love affair?
No chance. This time I'll have to learn to wait
But one more day is more than I can bear --
Love is already turning into hate.

Of course, my friends say I exaggerate
And dramatize a lot. That may be fair
But it is no fun being in this state
And very soon I'll start to look elsewhere. And if I could I'd look elsewhere.

I know you like me but I wouldn't dare
Ring you again. Instead I'll concentrate
On sending thought-waves through the London Verdun air
And if they reach you, please don't hesitate --
Pick up the phone.

Wendy Cope (and me).

Women. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.
But fine. Don't call me. See if I care. Cause I don't. I got better things to do than sit by the phone, like...knitting the back of That Goddamn Sweater and organizing my CDs alphabetically within genre. I'm a busy gal.
Last night Valeria and I went to see a band play at the Smoking Rabbit, where I got accosted by a drunk stoner French dude who tried to kiss me when Val went to the bathroom. Quite a step down, from Paris.
Maybe I should call her?


At 3:32 PM, Blogger nicotinefreegirl said...

Call her

At 10:56 AM, Anonymous roro said...

Just getting caught up on your Parisian adventures - sounds like you had a blast! I didn't visit Shakespeare & Co. when I was there - your description left me salivating. Winterson - good times.

Totally call her. As my friend Cam likes to say to people who bitch that he never calls: "Hey guys - the phone works both ways." And as I like to say "It doesn't count as stalking until the 3rd call."

At 8:57 AM, Blogger Andygrrl said...

Oh Shakespeare and Co. is a must for Anglophones in Paris. If only because so many famous authors have been there.

And I emailed her, in the end. She emailed me back, so it's all good. With email at least I can use my dictionary and avoid sounding like an idiot.

I haven't forgotten about The Girl, for the record. But it seems she's forgotten me. That Saturday still holds the title of Best. Date. Ever. though.

At 5:41 PM, Blogger Winter said...

Email is a useful alternative when too terrified to phone. I usually try and get their email addresses.

At 10:52 AM, Anonymous roro said...

Good on you for e-mailing her! Well done. And Winter, I agree - e-mail is safer. Why IS phoning so terrifying? I guess because over the phone, they can hear your full-blown panic attack. And, in my case, my crappy French.


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