RDW's poems

4- Her Suitor

I thought it would be simple, in-and -out:
cut the brambles, kiss the Princess
her eyes roll open when I sit her up
Then hoist her on my trusty old white horse
and happy-ever-after, the two of us

Nobody said there were the brambles you can’t see –
I hated those – no way to aim the sword
Nobody said that she would be awake
Nobody said that she would answer back

Just being a hero at all is hard enough

I came to rescue her
I didn’t come prepared to argue the toss
I did get through the brambles in the end
— it took four months —
You have to say that I stick with a job

So there I was – I finally reach the spot
where she’s laid out, all naked peachy-pink
I plant the kiss that’s supposed to wake her up
Her eyelids move, just like they’re supposed to do
And what she says is “Did you brush your teeth?

What do you use?  I use a motor brush
but you can’t share mine, even with your own head
because my stomach turns to think of it,
your spit and slobber anywhere I might be,
or see, or touch.  And toothpaste?

You should use cream, not paste
paste grinds, abrades the teeth
you have to think about all of these things
when you prepare to sleep one hundred years
So who are you?”

And so I said my name
“A Prince?  My ass!”   (She pointed to her ass)
“And do you spend your life running around the woods,
and kissing sleeping girls?  Whatever girls?
You’re going to rescue me?  Give me a break!

You are not real.  You know you are not real
What you could do, is take me to the shops.
I like to shop.  Do you have a credit card?
There is a cashmere sale on Oxford Street.
I’ve tried this fuchsia one on several times

although it really is a little tight – my boobs, you know
I’ve really got to lose a bit of weight
if I want to wear the fashionable stuff
So tell me what you mean by ‘rescuing’
Rescue me from what?  From how I live?

I know my place is in a bit of a mess
Alright.  My place is in a terrible mess
So what?  What’s your place like?
Where did you say you lived?  You didn’t say

A bedsit!  Here in Acton!  Holy Shit!

A joke from Acton’s come to rescue me?
Just where do you get off?  You must be nuts!
The only thing wrong with me is hanging around
with the likes of you.  Where’s a real Prince
when a girl needs one?  A guy with class!

Where do you get your clothes?  You should try Marks,
at least, or be adventurous
and try some special Covent Garden shops
Well, pleased to meet you, Mr Charming Prince
You’re quite a laugh!  Now get up on your horse

Come back when you have got yourself a car”


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