Calling Venus

November 11, 2010

New poem, written as part of ‘The Venus Papers’ show. First draft, unedited…might be able to fit it into an extract performance, at The Y Theatre, on December 11th…

Calling Venus

In the dark, dark city
There was a dark, dark road
And on the dark, dark road
There was a bright, bright light
And by the bright, bright light
There was a red, red box
And in the red, red box
There was a black, black phone
And by the black, black phone
There was a pink, pink card
And on the pink, pink card
There was a short, short name
And the short, short name
Said ‘Venus’.

I dialed the number beneath the name
And a ring tone rang
A woman picked up:

“Hello, this is Venus”

I said

“My name’s Venus”

She said

“OK Venus, what do you like?”

So I told her:

“Seagulls and razors
and seaman…and crabs.”

There was silence on the line
And I could hear her breathe
I fed her coins, to keep her with me.

She told me she was wet
So I asked

“Is it the sea?”

Then she started to talk
about fingers and seams.

She said

“Are you there?”

And I nodded down the phone

She said

“Are you there?”

Then she started to moan.

I hung up the receiver
But rang straight back
She called me a tease
Then started to laugh

And a car slid by
Then a woman with a man

I curled a finger round the wire
But kept the mouthpiece from my mouth.

And she wanted me to come
But I didn’t know where.

She asked about my clothes
I told her I was bare.

There was litter on the road
And her breath seemed to quicken

I said

“Who are you?”

She said

‘Whoever”.

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