Louis Glazzard

TINDER VS GRINDR

Quaking message pings,
removed the authentic things .
Under the woodwork, the lie online worked
and your phone buzzes in a swarm
millions of delicate men and women
at your fingertips – you find…

The man who was a real woman
who pressed your towel
up to his face
to remove the paint
leaving his stockings
pouring out of your paper bin.

The Scottish man who wanted to show
you his aged body in a damp tent
on the coast of France
who told you to meet
him down at the beach
the next day for more.

The man who called you a whore
and yet the man died twice when
his girlfriend came home or
heard the door to his apartment go
scrambling for your purse and plans
leaving the reception lobby flustered and

The man who held up his paintings
in the attic room, almost fainting
through the drugs he had fed you
like food to a baby’s mouth
but all of this, it felt new
an excitement until…

You saw your future in the man
who made love to you against
a cold window over the city
and you spent the next morning
between the pigeons and the pills,
his ‘100 times’ had you breathless at the clinic.

In the mornings your mother
was waving at the station
you emptied out the truth to her
and decided on breath – out,in,
but now, standing on the platform
you grieve

because…

you will never understand men.

          –  Louis Glazzard