Notting Hill

Fluttering Hugh stands in the doorway.
We both see Julia, in close up.
I er … I er … actually… I mean … would you?
His hair is floppy. He’s wearing corduroy.

Doe-eyed Julia is smiling shyly.
Why is she listening to this fool
with his display of false diffidence?
She doesn’t go, she just stands there

as if she is hypnotised and yet she
is the one with mesmerising eyes.
He is obviously a chancer
an alpha male with Audi and loafers

Notting Hill is full of his kind
his modesty a ploy artfully applied
like fake tan; a moth on steroids.
I er … I er … can I? … I mean …. could I?