GUILTY, AS CHARGED

Guilty, As Charged!

“If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.” – T.S. Eliot

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” – my muse

dixon

Guilty as charged!
I got screwed.
I screwed myself, really
With no clear idea
Of what I was doing.

I was charged and guilty!
I wanted to screw.
I think I did, hm, not really
With no clear picture
Of how to do this.

I was charged up!
Ready with strength.
Said no fucking way
I’m hanging out with him again!
Yes, I’d eat my Paris treats, watch BBC
Rest up in the Jesmond Saturday night, instead.

Yes, those were MY terms
I laid out neatly, eating Thai
across the street the Roadhouse line-up
For my country’s Arcade Fire.

Feeling Canadian pride:
“I don’t mind if I’m boring and NICE at all!”
If to be a Londoner means
To be like him, full of piss and gall!

Eliot, I was strong!
But in my heart a weakness leeched
for your sad ones
So I agreed to another meeting.

I did that because I could almost hear him saying,
YOU KNOW WHAT I AM LIKE, I TOLD YOU, HUN
“If you met me, you may not like me, I’ve a sharp tongue,”
“I’m a miserable old bugger,” and “I’m generally rude to everyone.”

So I acted tough, while being meek, tried the beer
And received my beating
From the terms laid out for a weakling
who had cancelled a date to meet
an academic at the British Library,
sweet girl,
what on earth you were thinking?
You had no mind to ditch the tag-along
Did you feel he wouldn’t stick around
If you told her to get lost?

Guilty, as charged!
You got screwed?
Don’t think so.
As much as he negged
As annoying as you were
He never did let go
of you.
Except when he did
And you got lost but he
searched streets up and down five times
for you.
So, time to rethink your idea of “grim”
And if I recall the jury observes
You have never not loosened your grip on him…

© Sylvie Hill 2014

Art: dixon / “Bingo Show” / spray paint and enamel on canvas / 2006