unspoken word

Grow up Dorothy
Let down your hair
Lose that tired gingham dress
And take note that little dogs
Are so last season
I’m curious darling
What makes you so afraid
Of a magical place that
You want to go home?
There’s no place like home?
Are you really telling me
That theres no place like…
Kansas

Lets address the matter again
Keep the red heels ok
They’re fierce
They give you some kind of
Potential
Maybe that’s what the wicked witch sees in you
Maybe that’s why the good witch
Is looking at you with that
Glittery glint in her eye
I saw you go all shy
Looked down demurely
I know you felt it

I saw you breathless
When she stood behind you
Quietly chanted with you
Theres no place like
Home
She was giving you
a chance there you know
And you chose
Kansas

Let me tell you something darling
One day I woke up
In a random bed
Head still heavy from whatever
Substances I’d taken from the night before
Totally unsure of
what day or week or year it was
And this
Was the moment when I proclaimed
Paula… you are not in London any more

But the difference is
I like oz
And I’ve met wicked witches
And good witches
And boys pretending to be wizards
At various things, music, art, technology
Promoters pretending to be courageous
when actually they were
Far more cowardly than that
lion you were hanging with
And techno tin men who could have benefited
From having more of a heart
Its scary at times, I empathise

But darling
I can’t get away from the fact
I’m very confused by the fact
That in a magic land
With magic heels
And a self proclaimed good witch
(who could have been magic in bed)
darling dorothy

you chose… kansas?
I mean if you had to go stateside
Surely san Francisco, new york
Or even Chicago are more
How shall I say this
Enticing?

Somewhere over the rainbow
You may find that there are people
Who trade security for the unknown
And you know what you may be right honey
There is no place like home
But home my dear
Is where you claim it
But I’ve got to go in a minute
See I’ve got this date
With the good witch
And I was wondering
Maybe I could borrow those red heels…?

It was just one of those mornings
It was just…
One of those days…
It was just one of those nights
When some delicious streak of spontaneity
Influenced by your desire to drink
Drove you to stay out later and later with strangers
Who some might say stray from any sensible convention
Of when to say when
When? Now?
How do I know when to say when
When I don’t even know the answer to the question
Forget the time
I don’t even know what day it is..
You know how it is
You know how it is
You know how it is when you wake up
At whatever-o-clock
Arms interlocked with some mysterious stranger
Face half covered in glitter
The floor covered over
In empty bottles and condom wrappers
And Its anyones guess
Where one might find
Your knickers
You know how it is..
You said
You said you were going out for a coffee
just a little coffee
just a short break
you were rehearsing
but then the first coffee
became the second
after the third coffee
it was getting a little late…for coffee
so you decided instead of the fourth coffee
you;’d order
a whiskey
just a little whiskey
just a little drop
you were just going out
for a coffee
just a little whiskey
just a wee drab
just an aperatif of sorts
for the food you
weren’t about to have
then that friend of yours showed up
somehow you managed
to buy that bottle of wine
and after that little whiskey
that wine sounded
like a fine idea
just a glass
just one or two or four
by now you’ve forgotten
you were just going out for a
coffee
just a quick coffee
to take a break from rehearsing
you know
you know how it is
it was just one of those days
it was just one of those mornings
it was just one of those
afternoons that slip into evening
when you’re not looking
becoming one of those nights
when your desire to drink
drives you out later and later
with strangers
who had no conventions
of when to say when
when?
Now?
How do I know
When to say when
When I can’t even
Answer the question
Forget the time
I don’t even know
What day it is
You know how it is
You know…
You know how it is..
When you wake up
At whatever o’clock
Arms interlocked with
Some mysterious stranger
Face half covered in glitter
Wrists baring stamps
Of clubs you can’t remember
You said you were going to go out
For a coffee
You were just going to pop out
For a coffee
Just take a break
Have a little coffee
You were rehearsing
You know how it is
You know how it is
You know how it is
Just a … just a…small line
Just a Little pill
Just a tiny bump of ketamine
Just little
injection of heroin
Before the crack comes in
Oh…You know how it is…
It was just one of those days
it was just one of those afternoons
that slip into evning when you’re not looking
and your desire for drinking
Kept you out later and later
With strangers who have
No sensible convention of
When to say when
when? now?
Forget about the time darling,
I don’t even know what day it is
You know how it is
You know how it is
You were just going out
For a coffeee…

It came in the post today
A letter to say that
My subscription to lesbianism
Had expired
But I’m sure I’d signed up this year
I wasn’t quite ready to retire
Its just that my membership
Became more and more tenuous
As more and more gentlemen lay in my bed

Apparently I’m still allowed
The moniker queer
I hear its terribly postmodern
To have sex with more or less everyone this year
And I have trouble at times
Buying into that bisexual title
Its accurate but greedy
Either too sexual
Or not quite sexy enough
Clinical
Even homosexual is cooler

And I’m not quite sure
how life will change
Without my gay membership card
Will It affect my gaydar?
I still think that’s  kind of useful and
In a time when its easier
To call yourself lesbian than feminist
I’m not sure I
want to be kicked out of the club yet

I’ve never been one to shy from labels
I like to carry as many as I sometimes wear
And I was always such a loud
Advocate of the short and sweet term
Dyke that it seems a little unfair
To cancel my subscription to dykedom
Ok, so the expiration comes with some perks
I guess its nice to have options

And its wild to kiss the opposite sex instead
And not have strangers look on
Or shout not so friendly comments
Just for passing by and holding hands
The worry of pregnancy kind of sucks though
As does the looks on the faces of gay girls
On hearing that now I’m some kind of – hasbian

But what can I do when
I receive a letter to say  the gay powers that be
Have cancelled my subscription
To lesbianism
I will shed not a tear
Because apparently
I’m still allowed the moniker queer
And after all
I hear that its terribly postmodern
To have sex  with more or less everyone
This year…

I don’t actually like blondes
Or so I said
Or so I told myself
Or so I found myself
Internally repeating
As they

This pair of blonde women
Sort of together
But not really together
Not together together
not gifrlfriends
They were girl friends
(note the space in between)

it didn’t mean anything
The way they happened to be
dancing
together
moving with me
Trading glances
Trading me between
And We were only
dancing

And anyway
I don’t actually like blondes
Not generally drawn to fair skin
And light hair
And piercing blue eyes
And pouting lips
And hips drawing in closer on
Either side of me

Synthesising with
Intentions I don’t have
For blonde girls
Until Caught up in a game
I didn’t quite know
the rules of

I watched one walk off
gently push her friend
Closer in my direction
And presented with her
I met her eyes dead on
too drunk to be demure
emboldened by the last
Double of whiskey poured
I pulled her close
Bassline trembling
through my thighs to hers

As my eyes travelled
across her shoulder
And met those of her friend again
Who smiled in my direction
nodded encouragingly
while nearby
My friend looked on

I couldn’t quite
make out his expression
it was too dark and
he was too far off and
I wondered if this blonde duo
Thought he was my boyfriend
I attempted to smirk at him
raised my brows as if to
Mock the situation

Eventually
I excused myself
 walked over to him.
Leaving girl number one
Passing girl number two.
Smile, nod,
nod ,smile

Two pairs of  
piercing blue eyes
Two heads
tossing gleaming golden hair
Two sets of angled shoulders
Dropping into curved hips
Two pairs of endless
Denim legs

Two women that
Made me instantly
Drastically
rethink
This not really being into
Blonde girls thing.

My friend and I
ordered another round of drinks
And when I turned
And when I turned
In the brightness between darkness of strobing lights
I looked back
Saw my two blonde dance partners
Making out like mad….

So maybe they were kind of
Together?
I mean together together?
I mean like girlfriends?
(note lack of space in between)
I noted the lack of space  in between
them

girl number two
came back again
quickly closing
the space in between
her and me.
Girl number one watched on
appreciatively

And I sit here thinking
I sit here writing
I sit here writing and thinking
Why
Why
Why on earth didn’t I …
But then again
I mean generally
I don’t actually like blondes
Really…