Monday, 8 December 2014

New poem: Michael Bublé

I was in the loos at one of the big London stations

and I heard someone singing in the next door


I called out, ‘Hi! It’s Michael Bublé, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ he said.

‘Can I just say, that you do that really great.’

‘Thanks,’ he said.

I joined in with him: ‘ don’t know what

it’s like, to love somebody, to love somebody,

the way I love you...’

‘I saw you on that Christmas special with Dawn

French,’ I said.

‘Oh that!’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ I said, ‘a bit, whoaaa!’

‘Exactly,’ he said.

‘Is she like that in real life?’ I said.

‘Oh yeah, but that’s part of the fun, man.’

‘Look, I don’t want to be rude,’ I said, ‘but..’

‘No you go ahead...’

‘But your dancing...’

‘I knew you’d bring that up,’ he said, ‘everyone

does. It’s OK, I know what you’re going to say...

it looks like I’m just about to fall over. Yeah,

well I am!’

He laughed.

I laughed.

‘And would you mind if I said something about

that ‘you don’t know what it’s like to love

somebody’ track?’ I said.

‘Go on,’ he said.

‘I’ve got Otis Redding’s version in my head and...’

‘Otis Redding didn’t do it. It was the BeeGees,’ he


‘Are you sure?’ I said.

‘Oh I’m sure,’ he said.

‘Well, whoever it was - and it wasn’t Otis?’

‘It wasn’t Otis,’ he said.

‘Well, the thing is, when you do it, I just keep

thinking of - you say, the BeeGees - but whoever

it was...and I’m not really listening to you.’

‘Hey don’t worry about it, man,’ he said, ‘it’s all


‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it’s all music. Oh yes and that time you


But I heard the loo flush, the door opened and shut and

he was gone.