Sorry seems to be

Sorry seems to be

This is just to say
the girl can’t help it;
the cloak and dagger admittance
the excuse me,
the edge of chivalry,
the affectation of the contrite.

The I did it -
and I’ve gone to night school for weeks
to learn the manners needed to negotiate a release.

The, I’m standing here,
with a key on my tongue
lobbing the apology grenade
that bomb thing
which glues dignity back to some sort of meaning.

The status symbol that pretends to be humbling,
the something so quintessentially British
about cuffing rudeness off the table like margarine,
but thinking actually, fuck this -
I want to drown in a big cup of sin.

Why not open the door to a house you lived in,
chair a meeting with yourself where only you can tell you, you look good in contrition.

If it’s too challenging,
get a consultant in, a strategist, an analyst, someone who does spreadsheets.
Get them to do a risk assessment, a performance development review,
a calculation of your investment opportunities,
why not a production team,
a whole load of grumpy looking people wearing black T shirts
who can make shit happen,
then hand the show over to a director
whose spine is like a pound sign.

Take the hit to broadway and stare up at the heading, I'm sorry, the musical’ in big red neon.

Set some targets, get some buy in,
ring Jerry Springer to say you think he makes reconcillitation look easy, and its not,
and you just thought he might like to do some further research.

That absurd absurd little word with its repetitions
can change a serial monogamist into
‘i've never been kissed’.
Learn to love, not wearing a heart guard,
but be afraid, cos those other humans are so close and you are accountable for their feelings.

Throw the grenade, and wait for the sublime between i'm sorry and you are forgiven.

If it happens like that;
until then, hang off hope cliffs,
sing a song about apology being the hope of hope
keep the rope hanging down in kindness.

Says the sorry fucker,
the human being -
the girl who can’t help it.

This is just to say, forgive me -
the plums were, delicious -
and I really, really, mean it.