First thing’s first:

This poem is about love

But not for you

(That was mostly guitar chords through the wall

And too much poetry lodged in my mind)

This poem is not about you

(It’s about negatives and forensic tracing,

Except I’m no scientist)

Not even about how you lay

Beside (but oftener to) me

It’s about biro lines that blurred

And drawings I can’t forgive you for ruining

(That’s another lie, except I call it

p.o.e.t.r.y )

It’s not about sha,sha,sha,shaking

(Suppuration is a part of me

And I’m not even on the cast list)

This poem is

(And this is where the poet takes a breathy pause –

Drama is so important nowadays –

And realises: )

This poem is…

Oh

Finished.