Brandy and Charlton Heston
By andrew_pack
- 826 reads
"Brandy and Charlton Heston"
I can't contain her in lines
hold her in place with words
that rhyme
rhymes tell lies
you must know that this is true
Early October, drab but no rain
I am there early, sitting in
comfortable armchairs
in hotel lobby, eyeing up
leaflets and joking with friends
I am sure.
There are no nerves, only certainty,
no reason to doubt.
It is apparent to me that this
is the wisest thing I have ever done
or will ever do
Marrying this woman, my Jayne
is so right for me.
I am not nervous at all, until
I see her sister, ushering me to
keep out of sight, so that Jayne
can come into the building and go
to her room, to put on the dress.
The fear then, is not am I doing
the right thing, but why on earth
is this right for her ?
A glass of brandy is pressed into my hand
warm, it coats the glass with a thin sheen
My friend told me, up there making the vows
your voice goes quiet. Even if, like me,
you are used to talking, I use my voice as other men
use their hands.
Think of Charlton Heston, he said,
speak like that and it will sound normal to
everyone else.
By the time she enters the room, I am shaking
like the day I fell through the ice, skating over
the frozen Witham,
all the room can hear my breath, I need a paper bag.
Why would someone so beautiful, so funny and kind
see anything she wanted in me ?
I can't turn to see how she looks in the dress
in case she's not wearing it,
in case she's in ordinary clothes and a look
of saddened pity and guilt.
There isn't anything else,
no sad boy-metaphors about FA Cups
Nothing compares to those stretched moments when you
put yourself in a place where you can either have
everything you know you want and need
but at the same time risk losing it all.
But she stands beside me and we say the words
I speak like Charlton Heston
and the brandy keeps me warm.
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