A Letter To Mum. RE: George Clooney

I'm sorry mum,
but George Clooney has gone.

That man you thought you loved
has moved onto the next step,
leaving you and millions more behind.

Let's face it, he was never going
to see your face in the crowd ‘cos you were
late home from a parents evenings that ran over
just as he was getting ready for the red carpet,
dressed in labels you can't find in Yorkshire.
And he probably stays up late at these parties
drinking all night
and you fall asleep-
every Sunday without fail just after your cup of tea-
in front of Countryfile just as Adam’s farm begins.

Whilst he's off making films putting on
the masks of Danny Ocean,
Michael Clayton, that gravity guy
and Ryan Bingham, you're
making the back bed of the garden look just right,
moving that double dahlia away from the light.

And I know that you joke of the millionaire
lifestyle and a move away to the sun with Clooney,
but chances are he'd pay for a gardener
to sort out the Algerian ivy for you,
but you’re too hands on to leave the i
vy
to a Californian gardener you don’t know the name of.

Although you’re the same age,
and both look not-a-day over 21,
getting into a relationship now would be silly.
I know I’m not the best guy to give you relationship advice,
but think of all the packing.
and the unpacking.
and the way they drive on the right over there,
think of the lack of Countryfile on cable TV
and the daily expedition you’d undertake to find a good cup of tea.

Yes he’s rich and writes his own films,
and yes he has the chiseled good looks of
a Michelangelo sculpture,
and yes he was the first face on the cover of Men’s Vogue,
but he’s not for you.

I'm sorry mum,

but George Clooney has gone.