Twas the night of the New Year, and all through the streets

Drunken revellers teetered on unsteady feet.

Having filled up on gin at the nearest cheap pub,

My friends and I stumbled our way to a club.


Mascara and lip gloss, applied with great care,

A mountain of product upholding our hair,

Stilettos too high, and dresses too tight,

We had romance in mind on this magical night.


The queue for a drink was as long as a mile

So I bought two at once, just to make it worthwhile.

And with one glass of fizz clutched in each of my hands

I strode into the crowd and I started to dance.


I twerked and I twirled and I shimmied and shook,

And kept scanning the room for an amorous look.

One by one my companions found dates for the night

Until just I was left, seeking my Mr Right.


When the countdown commenced with “Ten, nine, eight, seven”

I took a deep breath and looked up to the heavens,

And prayed to a being I’m not sure exists

That this New Year’s Eve I’d find someone to kiss.


I was sure as I whispered that desperate request

That I felt something flicker inside of my chest.

Then the party in unison screamed “four, three, two, one…

Happy New Year!”. And finally, midnight had come.


Around me, the couples in passionate embrace,

Clashing lips, and teeth, and tongues, and face.

The groping of buttocks, the clutching of hair,

Pressing crotch against crotch as if no one were there…


At a tap on my shoulder, I span round so fast

That Prosecco splashed over the rim of my glass.

As it trickled its way down the side of my arm

I stood stunned, face to face with my cause of alarm.


I’d spotted him eyeing me throughout the night

But had failed to evade him, try as I might…

And I wondered, should I have been slightly more clear

When I’d prayed for a partner to kiss at New Year?


His eyes, which were glazed from a whole night of drinking

Were brazenly aimed at my chest, unblinking.

His forehead, so sweaty! His cheeks, blotched with red.

A whole tub of hair gel slicked over his head.


His choice of attire made me turn up my nose

(He was dressed all in denim, from his head to his toes)

And the cut of his shirt couldn’t hide his round belly,

That shook when he danced like a bowlful of jelly


A wink of his eye and a sly little grin,

Then he tilted his head and began to move in…

On any other night I’d have given it a miss,

But I thought “heck, it’s News Years, what’s one little kiss?”


He tasted like vodka and stale cigarettes,

And his tongue flailed around like a fish in a net.

But just when I thought I could take it no more,

He stopped with a jolt and looked down at the floor.


On his face a peculiar look had appeared,

And he swayed where he stood and he slurred “I feel weird.”

Then his skin went quite pale and before I could move

He bent over and threw up all over my shoes.


In an instant, the people around us dispersed

And looked in on our horror as if we were cursed.

He clutched at his stomach and let out a moan,

Backed into the crowd…and I stood there alone.


But I heard him declare as he ran out of sight,

“I’ll be back in a minute”. That gave me a fright.

So I raced to the exit and into the street,

Threw my shoes in a bin and walked home with bare feet.


As I hobbled my way through the bustling town,

I thought over the evening’s events with a frown.

My New Year’s Eve snog really hadn’t worked out,

And I think maybe next year I’ll just go without…