Lonely the loquacious rain; lonely spring-
loaded; lonely faking a yawn and curling
its arm around you. Lonely in the morning
trying to put socks on toes with loose nails.
The fridge-raider, lonely. Lonely over-
thinks it; lonely the pickpocket in
fingerless gloves, a lovely hand on your leg.
Lonely forgetting to call lonely back.
Lonely ticking friendship on dating sites
and meaning it; lonely assiduously
taking notes. Lonely at the party,
mind kept running outside, driver screaming
‘go!’; the front-page splash, mics pistoling you
on your doorstep, begging for a quote. Lonely
the cut-out sprung in a house of horrors
as a prank. Lonely smashing its head
over and over into a mirror
in its last-ditch attempt to vanish.
—
Incidentally, you may want to check out this as well, where all the other Barbican Young Poets’ work was published 2013-14.
