Hello. Here is a new poem. It’s not a very good one.
It is also, possibly, a little creepy. I don’t know.
Dear Natalie Portman
Dear Natalie
Portman
I’d like to invite you to my house.
I would make you a cup of tea
Nothing more
Just a cup of tea.
Maybe a slice of cake
But mostly a cup of tea.
We could have a chat about things.
I promise not to mention Star Wars
Although I’d love to.
I promise not to mention Closer either
Because that would make it seem
It was about more than just having tea.
It would sully the whole experience for me
And you’d probably think I was only after one thing.
I am only after one thing:
A cup of tea with Natalie Portman.
We could chat about anything
Politics or nature or the news
Trees or my cat or your life
And what it’s like to be famous and to not
Sit down for a nice cup of tea from time to time
Without there being an agenda.
We could talk about shopping or shoes
Or makeup if you wanted.
I know quite a lot about those things
Considering I’m a bloke.
And then you could make a video for me
Pretending that you loved me
But I was too good for you
And you could never live up to me
And I could send it to a girl I fancied
To impress her into having tea with me as well.
It would be fun. You
Would pretend to be earnest
But corpse a lot
And ad-lib
And I would fail to catch the best bits on tape
Because I’m incompetent.
Also I don’t have a video camera.
You’d have to bring one.
Then you’d go home
And say “see you soon”
And I’d say yes
Call me any time
And you never would.
But it would be fun.
Just having a cup of tea.
It would be one of those weird experiences
We would always remember
And tell our friends about
And say “remember that time…”
I think my friends
Would be more impressed than yours.