The Lighthouse at Two Lights (1929)

by Edward Hopper













ok so it is pretty nice
there’s a lighthouse and some grass
a little house attached
and i could probably spend some time imagining
the dude that inevitably lives inside
he might be a bit weird
i bet he has loads of books and no tv
i bet he knows his set up is beautiful
and i bet he knows that the sky
for him and for passers by
offers conversation about clouds
and some awkward chat about “perspective”


i wonder if he knows that just by his wall
on a summer afternoon
where daisies grow
and grass blows in the wind
the sun rises and sets
rises and sets
there’s no one around, but you and me
i wonder if he knows
that this
is the perfect shag


i thought i was done with the grass but i’m not
poems love grass
and if you look closely you’ll see it’s the soft grass
if you’re gonna have grass in your poem it has to be this kind
it’s the same kind rihanna dances in
in the video for “only girl”
i know music videos have been called a dying form
but just watch it
she's in the soft grass for the whole thing
and the more i think about it
the more it becomes clear
that the dude in the lighthouse is the one
who made rihanna feel like the only girl in the world


boy forget about the world
cos it’s gonna be me and you tonight
in the soft grass outside the dude’s house
where daisies grow
the sun rises and sets
rises and sets
the lighthouse watching over us
but hopefully not him
you inevitably talk to me about the sky
and in that moment
i am the only girl in the world
i am rihanna
i am ready to say something profound


the colour of the sky is sky blue and i just faked that orgasm


from the basement of the library


i don’t know if this is a poem
but i keep saying i want to be a writer
i wear a beret and have like, seven notebooks
but obviously this is just a draft,
obviously i only write for myself
and clearly i don’t care about sharing my work
or people liking it or even listening -
you tell me to chill out for a minute
just relax it’s allowed you deserve it
sit wherever you want to sit
are you feeling better now
i wanted to actually properly really genuinely seriously talk to you
not right now


this song makes me fall in love with you
but i don’t know how to use spotify
you are a secret file on my laptop
except i don’t know how to make secret files and
I’m obviously not even checking but
you were online 4 minutes ago
so really if we are both online
right now
or 4 minutes ago
i’m in your head and you’re in mine
but obviously I’m not even checking
i don’t even check the news
because if i did,
i would know that *snapchat’s stocks have gone down this week because kylie jenner said it was


this happiness is mistaken for sarcasm.
being with you makes me feel like i can have plants in my room
being with you makes me feel like i can wake up without checking my phone
being with you makes me feel like i can speak for the teenage version of myself
who couldn’t say a word, but instead lay there, on the bed,
hating the rose petals, hating the night he fucked me whilst reciting a mcdonald’s order
and hating knowing that my body was taking up the exact same space as an xbox covered in dust.


i would pay to be zipped inside our messages
but then you realise people hate paying for anything really
no one wants to pay tax
everyone hates the poor
there’s nothing good about getting old
but i guess it depends who you’re with.


are you feeling better now
you can take your shoes off you know
I’m ready to make up with you
but not until I’ve written this poem
i would send you a pusheen if i knew what one was


Holly Beddingfield is a poet from Manchester, UK. She holds a degree in English from Oxford and has recently moved to London to try and make a living off writing. She loves Rihanna, milky tea, and writing excessively long captions on Snapchat. In her spare time she makes art, which you can browse or commission on her Instagram @hollybed_art.