I’ve written a handy phrasebook
For those awkward social situations.
I would like to acknowledge now
The help and contributions
Down the years of family and friends,
Colleagues, neighbours, politicians,
Nameless and too numerous to mention.
When a new colleague comes to work,
To ease them in: “Yes, they’ll check you out.
It’s quite alright. All they care about is if you’re queer.”
When your erstwhile single daughter
Announces that she’s gay and
Takes you out to dinner with her lover,
And you can’t deduce who seduced who
Nor how seriously to take her:
“She is a rather forceful character, isn’t she?”
When making small talk to the new girls in the upstairs flat:
“Of course one disadvantage is the council, too concerned
With spending money from our rates on gay and lesbian rights
Instead of emptying bins…. Well. Of course.
Everyone has a perfect right to be a lesbian. ….”
Conversation is a poker game, hard and grim.
Never look surprised, and if they laugh, laugh with them.
You’ve got a choice when they reveal their hand:
Either: “Of course, I always knew you were,” the old one,
Or, in desperation, “I assumed you were joking!”
The modern workplace demands a balanced team.
When you learn that yet another member
Of your staff is gay, it’s best to draw the line.
Diversity has its limits: “Oh no. Not another one!”
Should make this clear. Keep talking about your children.
It’s quite a formal black tie do and one of them takes you literally
With the full works, DJ and black bow tie.
Why not try a displacement strategy?
Address her partner cheerily: “My dear!
I can’t think when I last saw you in a dress.”
The upfront approach can quite disarm the guest.
So, if you’re the vicar’s wife at the Christmas party:
“Have you considered a commitment ceremony?”
When you’re downright curious
And hope to dine out on the tale:
“How did you meet?… Oh. So not by chance
Across a crowded room? Quite organised?”
When a customer comes in for her dry-cleaning,
Don’t be shy: “What do you think of my new Wonderbra?”
Or too busy to notice? Can’t tell them apart when
They wear each others’ clothes? Need something to say?
If you’re a begging alcoholic or a rosy-tinted Christian,
Why not try: “I was talking to your sister yesterday.”
Midwifery practice in a diverse community
Means you’ve seen it all before, so why
Not say so? Welcome them in:
“We’ve had a lesbian couple here before you know.”
You find you have a lot in common.
Your friendship’s warming up quite fine.
In fact, you’re ready to confide:
“My husband thinks he’s one.”
At Croft Ambrey looking out over hills
They sit side by side and eat sandwiches
On a bench commemorating in brass
Two women who farmed together,
Walked here too, looked out over
These same hills and were glad then,
As our friends are now, to find
A way to live with each other.
Bracken and high Scots pines are folded
In a fine drizzle. Hill behind hill recedes
To a cloudy horizon, like waking in bed
In early morning, when in the grey light their bodies
Are a dream of duvet hummocks; arms, knees,
A slumbering breast, are their own country.
They smile and breathe deeply, slowly,
After the spiralling climb up the Ambrey.
Muddy boots. A shared bag of crisps.
A look in her lover’s eyes and she remembers
“We’ve been together seventeen years.
But how many people know ‘we’ exists?”
And she reminds her how they came together
Momentously, changed from being college friends,
When the crowd had disappeared and she’d cried,
Copiously and abjectly in her friend’s arms.
“You took complete advantage of me, when
I wasn’t in a fit state to resist,” she grins,
“Weeping when I’d finally broken free from X.”
“You were so selflessly sympathetic!” She mocks.
“And comforting. And I thought that was nice, so nice,
She definitely won’t… want …to do it again!
Accept it as a one-off, just a gift.
When the weekend’s ended, she’ll be gone.
“But you said ‘I’ve been wanting you for years.’
Taken your time you had.” “Don’t blame me,” she says.
“It was your hangers on, your Iris Murdoch men.
I wasn’t in the plot.” “But you were then.”
They are alone together by the winter forest.
A slope of rusty bracken falls away below.
It’s quiet on the hill. No ramblers, dog walkers;
Miles of space. She turns and kisses her.
Says the bad fairy.
You want sun, sea, white sand, you say.
So the wicked fairy pours a potent mix
Of airport stress and on board drinks,
Of global warming, early wrinkles,
Malaria pills and diarrhoea for four weeks.
You want a lottery ticket for life.
So the fairy goes on a spending trip
Of frenzied shopping, soured friendship,
Begging letters by the binload, broken trust,
And sweaty fear the money will not last.
You want to be footloose, fancy free, you say.
And the wicked fairy smiles and gives you liberty,
Nothing demanding to do all day,
Year after year of your own activity,
So you wander the world in your own ennui.
You want to be a first mover, top brand consumer.
And the bad fairy sends a credit boom,
The latest game and product placement cool,
A WAP phone and a ring tone to make the muggers drool;
Six months interest free and then we’re after you.
You want sex and girls, you say.
And the bad fairy’s sister’s hot for it
With her silicon boobs and parting lips.
She complains you’re unsophisticated
And after you come you feel deflated.
You want intensity, champagne and Ecstasy.
And the bad fairy dances too;
In laser lights you know that she loves you.
Chain reaction, bad reaction,
Goes from downer to depression.
And the angry fairy shouts out loud,
“It’s what you want, so are you happy now?”
If you have enjoyed Emily's Poetry, then please be certain to e-mail her at Emily[at]sapphicvoices.com and thank her for posting her Work.
Click here for a list of all of Emily's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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