Wednesday 23 April 2008

Maltball and Rand are Dead! or, Thank You, Mr. Stoppard

A Meeting, On Paper.

Plays
  • Rock n' Roll
  • Spring Awakening
  • Hamlet *
* You could have had any other play. You could have pulled out Oedipus Rex. I'd written 5,000 words on the idea that Yorick was Hamlet's true father. You agreed.

Books
  • You've read nearly everything I've ever loved
  • You love the poets I can't understand
  • It was lovely
Ambitions
  • Cultural invigoration! (Music, Literature - John Donne! Joan Didion! - Theatre, our own writings...) *
  • You said that you've never seen anyone speak like I did when I told you my big plans. I was swimming.
* You could have been a banker. Your father is a banker. I could never be with a banker.

A Lifetime, In My Mind.

We could have done this. I was there. You blamed Tom Stoppard. The washing hummed and you were so careful where you put your hands. We didn't eat because we weren't hungry. Your trousers fit you perfectly. You liked my sundress. There was a book in your pocket. I was in love, down the rabbit hole with you. It was perfect but it was late and your father's friend, the MP, was arriving at five the next morning. We slept together anyway.

Two days later, at a table across from the bar at Starbucks you said goodbye. You'd thought of nothing else for the past two days and you didn't see how it would ever work. This was harder for you then I could imagine, you said. You looked so sad. No doubt you were. Your eyes kept blinking to keep the wet only a glaze. I wouldn't cry in front of you. We hugged outside, it was all very dignified but you wouldn't let go. Your fingers tangled my hair and you whispered "Shit," in my ear. Somebody had to say the truth. Our hearts made us dizzy, but I didn't pull at you. Maltball and Rand are dead.


Friday 4 April 2008

The Gummy House

The Gummy House is sticky. The Gummy House is sweet. The Gummy House is everything that I would like to eat.

He ate me. Off the wall. You were so sweet sleeping, I couldn’t wake you. I was hanging onto deliriousness - all the days, the dark, the fucking Circle Line and crowds outside the Natural History Museum. The fucking Natural History Museum where Nolan was.

- In two weeks time I’ll be rubbish, but I’ll call.

Nolan was just one of them. There are many that I keep hanging on to but its not the same here and I should know by now. I tell everyone who goes to Cromwell Road that they’re a traitor. But he isn’t there anymore. He has nothing to do with anything now - nothing, blank, fin. But he lives on my walks through the park to school. Every fucking day. It was different when I first arrived but I’ve overstayed. I’ve got to go, but I’m in the Gummy House. This whole city is the fucking Gummy House and the sick part of me that wants to be prodded and bitten. "Bite it. You have to bite it." That’s from Atonement. I couldn’t read that line allowed in class. Bite it. You have to bite it.

All the day’s clothes were on my body. Too much a hassle to take them off when he wanted to go beneath my black bra that my mother had bought for me. I was the auto-body in his teal kitchen, all parts, no kisses. I had a boyfriend, stop I have a boyfriend.

- Where’s he now sugar?

My pants were undone. My skinny jeans use to be a struggle to get on and off. They were harder with Nolan but I’ve stopped eating again. I don’t want anything from you. Please.

- No.

My back hit the light switch. There was light in the kitchen before he pushed me against the wall again. Light was on, off, on, off. I would have laughed but it was awkward and he was focused. His hand was jammed in and I couldn’t make a sound. You were asleep. I’m sorry, I should have called. But you would have killed him and left me panting. What flavor was teal? Was there ever a teal gummy bear? A tropical mix? His hand was in, his head was down - there was no shelf to grip on the wall. The house was clean, his mother was asleep upstairs. I’d met her. The American amongst the slanted vernacular.

He was a singer. I wanted that art back but what was mixing vocal chords going to do? I cried, he didn’t notice. Which was fine. I wasn’t allowed to make a noise anyway. Girls in brown braids run through fields in gingham dresses but I was in the Gummy House.