you can write that down

if you need to, but breathe our name …”

Don’t mention the plan: new town, new name,

two fingers to those heartless bastards, and settle down.

There’s a bus in the station. Go for it, Robinson.

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 improbability.

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 old 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 the 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.