Dear Man I Saw On The Platform At Colchester

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester,
You hugged the ugly Polynesian girl
Then waited while she got on board the train
I confess, my knee-jerk thought was
Mail order bride
Which makes me racist, I suppose,
But with your drubbed face and idiot fingers,
Your lanky skittishness and
Air of someone who smells like digestives
I thought
Who could love that
Without a big fat cheque
And a chance to join the world’s fifth largest economy

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
I saw the tears in your eyes and thought
Fuckwit
The girl took her seat a few rows from me
And in the crappy yellow light I wanted to stand and yell
Idiot man on the platform at Colchester
You are incapable of love
You think your pain matters
It does not
God is a bad prank
Even the biggest boats
Don’t leave a dent when they exit the water
This girl could lose her dismal face to a blender
She could
Stumble into a pit of lime or
Dip her legs in a trash compactor
And no one would care
Because your love is shabby and small

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
When the train began to move, you,
Like the worst cliché, began to follow,
And your walk became a canter became a clammy jog
Your unflattering blue Gortex coat and your three-tier rucksack
You ran
Without a thought for dignity
You ran
As if it mattered

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
Don’t knock cowardice
For years, it’s been the only thing
Keeping my wrists closed
And watching you run
I fancied you could do with a dose
God knows
I’m a horrible cynic
This grim armour
I wear, these shit-tinted specs,
All because deep down
Christ, I want to believe in things
But disappointment stings
When I saw you drop your guard like that
Well
I just wanted to protect you

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
When you ran
You did not look like a twat
Right then
You were beautiful
And I understood –
Joy is stupid
Hope runs for a train it can’t catch
Passion sobs in the street and doesn’t care who sees
Wisdom knows
Sometimes it’s okay
To drop the jaundiced swagger
And write a poem where you just say how you feel

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
I loved you then
And if hope exists
Then I hope we meet again
I hope you bring your girlfriend
We could go for cakes and tea
I’ll reach under the table
And gently
Squeeze your knee

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
It should have been me!
Dear man
I love you
I even love your ugly girlfriend
Good God,
I spent the whole journey home
Pretending to stroke her face from a distance
Because I knew how much she means
I thought
Who cares if someone sees me?
Let them sneer!
The man on the platform at Colchester taught me
True love knows no fear!

Dear man I saw on the platform at Colchester
Yield to me
Run alongside me through fields of cowslips
Past Manningtree, Stowmarket, Diss
O unencumbered nomad!
Follow me home!
I want to drag my tongue across
The bleak phrenology of your bristled scalp,
I want to pick your bulbous nose,
I want to show you
Just how close you came
For a single wet pane is no distance at all
And tonight, on a fold-down bed,
Through the railway sleeper rhythms
Of your listless lovemaking
God will Tannoy-talk these words
Like a moth in your ear

Dear man
In a different life
I could’ve shown you lust
So dark
It would’ve turned your grandkids’ hair to dust
All your days you’ve felt the lack of me
That delinquent ache against the asphalt rain
Wax fruit hours that neither spoil nor satisfy
A Dopplered heartbeat
Like a disappearing train