It Might Never Happen

This is not you, but someone soaked in fake Brut
coming at me in a gesture of fake generosity.

For goodness sake, I only want a quiet life,
it’s no crime not to be a gregarious joiner.

Ultra-polite, ultra-wary, I don’t answer back
but here’s my response to the world in general:

My scowl isn’t personal, it’s just the shape
of my face, and when I smile it’s genuine.

Does not-drinking make me some kind of puritan?
If I could drink gin I’d like it for its whiff of juniper.

I don’t have to take part in their great train robbery
or their tea party trying to be sweet and genteel.

I want you, but I can enjoy Christmas Day on my own
and emerge unsmiling, ready for grey-skied January.

Peter Daniels’ fourth collection is Old Men (Salt, 2024). He has translated Vladislav Khodasévich from Russian, and as queer writer in residence at the London Archives wrote the obscene historical Ballad of Captain Rigby.  www.peterdaniels.org.uk