Normal People, a show for the sad and the sex-obsessed

We watched Normal People last summer.

When I say, we, I mean I watched it
with the teddy you called cute
before I threw it at your balls
when you said you’d kissed my ex.

When I say, we, I mean I watched it,
the world watched it, and seeing as
you’re a twenty-year-old Irish author,
I presume you did too, as this was our

one chance to show the world that we’re
not small, red-haired drunks,
we’re small, red-haired drunks, who are
just as sex-obsessed as everyone else.

While Twitter said that the on-again,
off-again, on-again, off-again relationship
was too all over the place,
I wished ours had been as stable as that

What I mean to say is, I watched
Normal People last summer,
and I cried into my teddy, watching
actors fake sex on screen.

Roseanne Fahey is a twenty-one-year-old from the midlands of Ireland. She studies Creative Writing at the National University of Ireland, Galway. Her poetry and prose have been published or are forthcoming in The Five-Two, In Parenthesis, The Rainbow Poems, and The Ice-Lolly Review. 

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