The seventh draft poem for Matthew Sweeney's Guardian Unlimited workshop, taking a line from a W.S. Graham poem to inspire drama within your work (and push you out of your comfort zone):
Meanwhile surely there must be something to say
of what we had: the way we met as friends of friends
at a polite party nothing short of dead, the day we
headed to the coast and kissed and laughed and slept
on the beach, the same penchants for Marmite and BBQ
crisps, all this we could talk about before we sign this,
for instance, for instance… the way we made love in your bed,
my bed, our bed, the way we… the way we… made love. Had sex.
Meanwhile surely there must be something to say
of what we had: the way we met as friends of friends
at a polite party nothing short of dead, the day we
headed to the coast and kissed and laughed and slept
on the beach, the same penchants for Marmite and BBQ
crisps, all this we could talk about before we sign this,
for instance, for instance… the way we made love in your bed,
my bed, our bed, the way we… the way we… made love. Had sex.