speed-dating for the vanished

speed-dating for the vanished

 

light streams from warm bars,

smiles recoil from chandeliers

i watch, hooded and rained on

too close to the glass,

feeling i will never

fit the Linton ball

 

stepping in,

saccharine pop drowns me

as i follow a slow procession

of salt-and-pepper hair

to the special room upstairs,

where the other lonely people are

 

we grimace through small talk,

those of us no one chose

which always feels like cheating,

posturing and

scent-marking

even before the dating begins

 

words tumble and jar,

flatlining at average

despondency taints

the perfume and cologne,

as we all try out different ways to say –

please like me, enough

 

we fall back on laughter lines,

you talk children and fatigue

i talk cat, poetry and archaeology

any common ground

spilled between fake candles and bunting,

flimsier than the Christmas Truce

 

i leave at half time,

hope further depleted

driving home, fast

i sing myself hoarse –

Ramones mostly –

desperate to live

 

home, and the

passing comfort

of a neanderthal documentary,

viewed through a smoky haze

as the sun

heaves itself high