By Richard Barrett

Location: The Athenaeum, 1 York Street

I couldn’t take your call
because my phone had died
Were in the Ath that night
until about 10-ish.

We moved from the back to
a table near the door
Expecting you to appear

but you didn’t come in.

The next day at work
explaining what happened
looking me in the eye
you’d been in the pub too

so you claimed

but it was a lie

and we both knew it was.

Richard Barrett writes poetry. Some of it gets published, some of it doesn’t. He reads poetry out at places. Sometimes people clap, sometimes they don’t. He used to be responsible for one of the four best arts and culture blogs in Manchester. http://quitthispamperedtown.blogspot.com/