Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like an empty plate left upon a table;
Let us go, through the dark overcrowded streets,
Where DJs play their beats 5
And bouncers will enforce a strict dress code
That leaves the wrongly dressed out in the road:
Streets that follow like a Paxman interview,
Revealing nothing that’s new
To lead you to an overwhelming question…. 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
To the toilets women come and go,
Talking of “him” and “so-and-so”.
The exiled smokers rub their backs upon the window-panes, 15
The exhaled smoke that leaves its tar upon the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the men that stand in groups
Let fall upon its back congratulatory slap,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the bar, and fell asleep.
And you know there will be time
For the exhaled smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to order and to eat,
And time for all the days and work of hands
That lift and drop a burger on your seat; 30
Time to watch the mute tv,
And time yet for me to try a hundred beers,
And time for another hundred drinks and “Cheers!”
Before the making of a toast at three.
And I know there will be time 35
To wonder, “Do I eat?” and, “Do I drink?”
Time to open the menu and to think,
To decide before my heart begins to sink –
(The staff will say: “Is that punter here alone?”)
I pretend I’m checking messages on my mobile phone, 40
I try to give the impression that I’m not here all on my own –
(They will say: “It must be sad to be alone!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the waitresses?
In a minute there is time 45
For me to change the feelings and the thoughts my face expresses.
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the mornings, evenings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life in Wetherspoon’s;
The voices like the voices in a shopping mall 50
Beneath the music from an upstairs room.
So how should I presume?
And I have tried the drinks already, tried them all –
The drinks they offer with a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on the floor, 55
When I seek support leaning on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the e-cigs of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have tried the meals already, tried them all – 60
Meals that begin with breakfast at seven
(They continue right up to eleven!)
Is it lager smooth and cold
That makes me feel so bold?
Meals that are brought to your table, promising you heaven. 65
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
Shall I say, I have gone at Happy Hour to bars
And heard the banter of the men in short-
Sleeved shirts who must be freezing now outside it’s winter?... 70
I should have been a pair of Reebok shoes
Scruffy and dirty and covered in booze.
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
The staff might think us
Asleep….tired….not young binge drinkers, 75
Stretched on the floor, no, no, not you and me.
Should I, after beer and wine and lager,
Have the strength to reach the climax of this saga?
But though I have drunk and eaten, drunk in Rome,
Though I have seen my chicken dinner brought in sizzling on a platter, 80
I’m just a punter – and there’s no great matter;
I have seen the lights go out nearing closing time,
And I have seen the youthful Barman do his please drink up now mime,
And in short, I just went home.
And would it have been worth it, after all, 85
After cider, session beers, J2-Os,
Among the pre-match drinkers singing songs where anything goes,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off Fish Friday with a smile,
To have squeezed the Curry Club into a ball 90
To roll it toward the doctor’s waiting room,
To say, “You gave me tablets, for my heartburn,
Now I shall tell you all, I shall tell you all”-
If one, spilling drink as she starts to turn,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all; 95
That is not it, at all.”
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After Mexican Monday and beers from around the world,
Checking my emails (you can get in the cloud the moment you walk in through the door) – 100
And this, and so much more? –
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But like a PowerPoint presentation throwing nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If I, messaging a friend or answering a call, 105
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
No! I am not Prince William, nor was meant to be;
I am security, am employed on 110
Zero hours, still here when the crowds have gone,
Clearing litter with my litter tool,
Glad to be of use, I’m trained to pretend,
Really waiting for this long shift to end,
But smiling so that I do not offend, 115
Even though my back hurts with every bend –
Certainly not so cool.
I grow old…I grow old…
I shall wear the bottoms of my high-vis rolled.
Shall I go on holiday? Do I dare to book a flight online? 120
I shall wear white budgie smugglers and walk upon the brine.
I have seen the other bathers make the sign.
I do not think that they will sign to me.
I have seen them ride their surfboards out to sea
Return to shore on the crest of a wave 125
They seem so young, so fit, so bronzed and brave.
We have lingered in the bars beside the sea,
Lain comatose upon the beach and then
We wait for revelries to start again.
