You’re Beautiful
by Simon Armitage
You’re beautiful because you’re classically trained.
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation.
You’re beautiful because you stop to read the cards in
newsagents’ windows about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what I did to that jellyfish with a lolly
stick and a big stone.
You’re beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not
a marketing campaign.
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the
power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical
impossibility.
You’re beautiful because you prefer home-made soup to the
packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party, I defended the
aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk.
You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four-hour
rolling news.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as
funerals.
I’m ugly because I think of children as another species from
a different world.
You’re beautiful because you look great in any colour
including red.
I’m ugly because I think shopping is strictly for the
acquisition of material goods.
You’re beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered
planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay
gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet.
I’m ugly for saying "love at first sight" is another form of
mistaken identity, and that the most human of all responses
is to gloat.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you’ve never seen the inside of a
car-wash.
I’m ugly because I always ask for a receipt.
You’re beautiful for sending a box of shoes to the third
world.
I’m ugly because I remember the telephone numbers of
ex-girlfriends and the year Schubert was born.
You’re beautiful because you sponsored a parrot in a zoo.
I’m ugly because when I sigh it’s like the slow collapse of a
circus tent.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
You’re beautiful because you can point at a man in a uniform
and laugh.
I’m ugly because I was a police informer in a previous life.
You’re beautiful because you drink a litre of water and eat
three pieces of fruit a day.
I’m ugly for taking the line that a meal without meat is a
beautiful woman with one eye.
You’re beautiful because you don’t see love as a competition
and you know how to lose.
I’m ugly because I kissed the FA Cup then held it up to the
crowd.
You’re beautiful because of a single buttercup in the top
buttonhole of your cardigan.
I’m ugly because I said the World’s Strongest Woman was a
muscleman in a dress.
You’re beautiful because you couldn’t live in a lighthouse.
I’m ugly for making hand-shadows in front of the giant bulb,
so when they look up, the captains of vessels in distress see
the ears of a rabbit, or the eye of a fox, or the legs of a
galloping black horse.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.
_____________________________
I’ve been reading a lot of interesting poetry lately, in fact on a daily basis, because it’s Poetry Month and I’m on the Knopf -Doubleday mailing list for the daily email. I’m still trying to figure out what the antiphonal repeating chorus is about, but still … it’s a great poem. I can almost hear the man’s (husband’s?) whine in every verse as he describes their differences. Or he could just be a caller describing his relationship with his Phone Sex Princess/Goddess/Mistress. Either way, it works. It’s that Petrarchian thing again.
Do make a point to visit the poet’s website, where there is some interesting video. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight anyone?
_____________________________
Phone Sex Goddess of the Day
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_____________________________
Phone Sex Advice of the Day
Manners count. It’s that simple and that important. PSOs are not any different than the women you meet in your everyday life. You might even have a female friend that is a PSO and you don’t even know it. Would you want her to see you acting that way? We won’t (unless you called an idiot PSO) judge you by your kink. But we will judge you by your politesse or lack thereof. It’s human nature; and we are, after all human. Just like you. Which is exactly the point.
xo, Angela
