Grown Up

When I’m all grown up and sensible,
I will understand the need for early nights
and whites washes.
I will know what a mortgage actually is,
and why I don’t need to finish the bottle,
and my hair will never frizz.

Fellow grown-ups
will refer to me as ‘Madam lady’ and ‘Ms’
and will offer me olives
that they bought in the shop,
and, seeing as I am an adult,
I would love to eat some olives
but I will also know when to stop.

I will know my wines well, of course.
Know my shiraz from my merlot,
I’ll know the right faces to pull
when I’m tasting
and it won’t be wasting
when I spit it out.

When I am a grown up
I will hold my own at dimly lit dinners
and say things like
“define your terms, Jeremy!”
I will have a fail safe pie recipe
and spend my weekends with the National Trust.

When I am all grown up
I will hang silk dressing gowns
on the bathroom door,
and will stay inside more.
Stay inside instead,
inside my bed, which I will make,
and not just sleep on sofas,
and I will fall asleep and wake
at roughly the right times.

When I am a grown up
I will suffer from things
called tax, and damp, and menopause
and I will definitely know for certain
that Santa Clause
is a lie.

When I am a grown up
I will lose the swim of what’s current,
but I won’t care.
I’ll lose my hair and knit it in to my scarf
and go to the places where they keep cobble stones
and cafes, and laugh,
and say “how lovely!”
at many things.

When I am a grown up
I will no longer drink all these drinks,
and think all these thinks
that I think I have to think,
and try to look like I care.
I will not suffer fools
and I will swear at any be-hatted bohemian
who dare tell me about their new band.

When I am a grown up
I will shut up about myself.
Stop writing poems, trying to work it all out.
I will eat weird foods, like trout,
and blue cheese
and my knees will allow me to stand
once a day.
I will believe in biscuits, and kindness,
and the simple way.

Or, I will shout louder.
Become a fighter
whose light shines so much brighter,
have tantrums in the crisp aisle
because I can.
Order triple whiskeys
and get frisky
with the young lads who let me.

When I am a grown up
I may live and die by the pub
and express strong opinions
on things
that I know fuck all about.

When I am a grown up
I will sign my name on texts
use a diaphragm during sex,
I will take my coffee black,
and I will make my money last
and I will drive fast cars down country lanes,
free from all these growing pains.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s