Other Poems by:

Dave Hemmings

SO MANY WOMEN

I have seen them looking at me as I walk home from work
 
Attractive women
 
Looking at me
 
Thinking that I look good
 
My eyes have connected with theirs for a moment and then they have walked past
 
This has happened many times
 
Today alone
 
At least five women looked at me in that way
 
That way that says 'fuck you are nice!'
 
'Fuck you are gorgeous'
 
I'm sure ! it is that way
 
I can tell
 
The way they look at me and then look away
 
Or our eyes meet oh so briefly
 
Then they are gone
 
I am gone
 
Never to meet again
 
I have never done anything about it
 
Never spoken to one of them
 
Never said hello
 
I'm sure that if I did they would respond
 
Some of them at least
 
Maybe some of them are looking at me in disgust
 
Disgust at my dishevelled appearance
 
But some
 
I know
 
They liked what they saw
 
What they see
 
I ! know I'm good looking
 
Yet I never speak to women
 
Not even the ones who obviously fancy me
 
It fucking hurts
 
It fucking kills
 
That something stops me from meeting women
 
From going out with them
 
From fucking them
 
Someone as good looking as me should be fucking a different woman every night
 
Yet I'm not
 
I'm here writing this
 
In my pants and socks
 
Waiting for the spaghetti to cook

FACIAL FUZZ

grow a beard.
 
Shave it off
 
Grow a beard
  
Give it a trim
 
Cut a bit too much off
 
Have to shave it all off
 
Have a bit of stubble for a few days
 
Try and trim it to keep it the same length
 
Fuck it up
 
Have to shave it off 
 
Grow a goatee
 
Try and trim it
 
Cut too much off one side
 
Try and even it up
 
Fuck it up
 
Have to shave it off
 
Grow a beard
 
Shave it off
 

YOU AND YOUR FUCKING 180 POUNDS AN HOUR

What can you tell the Psychiatrist? Its just a routine visit. 
 
You are not! suicidal like the first time you saw him. 
 
You don't think people at work are plotting against you.
 
 You are not just staying in bed every day.
 
 You are not sleeping in the same clothes for a week. 
 
You are not walking the streets talking to yourself. 
 
You are not smoking cigarettes out of the window whilst thinking how much better it would be if you were a pigeon. 
 
You are holding down a job. You are taking your medication. 
 
You are leading a normal life.
 
 Except you hate people. 
 
You don't have a social life. 
 
Everyday is the same and you feel like doing something crazy to get fucking noticed by all the cunts in the world. 
 
But you! are more sane than when you first came to see him. 
 
You feel like a fraud. You feel like there is nothing really wrong with you anymore. 
 
The Psychiatrist thinks of things to say to fill up the half an hour.
 
 He gets his ninety quid whatever.
 
 You have nothing to say.
 
 You have nothing to say. 
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