Ruthie, this one's for you.
This one is for you, Ruthie,
This one is for you.
It's not my best poem, but you're not my best friend. You're not even a fully-fledged mate - you're a mate of a mate. I have no strong feelings towards you. Ruthie, I do not miss you when you're not around. I never wonder to myself, "I wonder what Ruthie's doing right now."
Sometimes I plagiarize your anecdotes, prefixing them with "A friend of a friend told me..." This is how the great urban tales are born. Sometimes we'll say, let's go for a coffee, just the two of us, without Helen, the lynchpin that holds our acquaintanceship together. This well-intentioned coffee date never happens, not because we never intended to get together. It's just that you and me, Ruthie, we're happy that we don't really know each other, not because we don't like each other, but because we don't quite care enough.
Annette Greenaway
I would be so stoked to receive a poem like that believe me.
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