Yours

October 23rd

Dear Sophia,

I love you. You looked so beautiful today. All I could think when I saw you was people in the past would have written poems about how beautiful you are.

I don’t know anything about poetry really. Nobody reads it anymore so nobody writes it anymore. It’s one of those things people only do if they’re going to credit for it. If anyone is worthy of having poems written about them it’s you. You make everyone else look lifeless and dull.

The only poet I can remember the name of is Philip Larkin. He was part of our English lessons when we were at school. There was a pub in Sheffield that used to have a poster on the wall with a bit of one of his poems on it. I didn’t really like that pub. It had lots of pointless things on the walls. I’m not really sure why they wanted this up on the wall anyway.

they fuck you up your mum and dad

they may not mean to but they do

they fill you with the faults they had

and add some extra just for you

I decided to look up the rest of that poem. It goes like this.

but they were fucked up in their turn

by fools in old style hats and coats

who half the time were soppy stern

and half at one another’s throats

man hands on misery to man

it deepens like a coastal shelf

get out as early as you can

and don’t have any kids yourself

I think it’s quite funny. I think it’s true parents can mess up their kids but I don’t think it means people shouldn’t have kids. It doesn’t apply to us anyway.

We’re definitely going to have children and we’re definitely going to be great parents. Someone at school told me Philip Larkin was secretly a bit racist anyway so I don’t know who he thinks he is telling other people not to have kids. He would probably just raise his kids up to be racist too.

Nobody reads poetry anyway. It’s not important. I don’t read as much other stuff as I should though. I just don’t have the time. I’ve read a few books at least. I’ve read Helter Skelter and some books about Ozzy Osbourne. I think you hear more interesting things and learn more about life from books like that than you do from fancy old books anyway.

I think the last book I read was called Richard. It’s about a man called Richey Edwards who disappeared and nobody knows what happened to him. It’s not a biography even though he was a real person. It’s written like a real story. I think it’s weird to write about real things like that and turn it into a story. That’s why I prefer to read things like Helter Skelter so I can learn about real things. I don’t want to read someone trying to turn something real into a story. I don’t care about stories.

I don’t think anyone reads much these days at all. I know nobody reads poetry. I bet most people don’t know any poems. I tried to write a poem for you. I couldn’t think of any rhymes. I hope you like it though. I know nobody reads poems anymore that’s why I thought it might be nice.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go. my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

I hope you get what it means. I hope you like it. I know you probably don’t have any interest in poems but I hope you like it anyway.

I love you and you are beautiful and you are perfect. That’s what I mean to say all the time but I never find the words for it.

I really hope you like the poem. I hope you get that it’s really romantic. If you don’t like it I’ll try and write one that rhymes for you. It’s not like we need poems to get across how we feel really. We both know how we feel.

I love you.

Yours,

Andrew