Box set

I haven't watched a film for six months.

I keep saving up things for us to watch

But I can't face them alone

I can't face outside alone

Our private jokes without a home.

You'll never know

if Glenn dies under the dumpster

(he didn't, but...)

You'll never get to see crappy season 7

to find out if Negan is scary.

Well, spoiler alert, he's not.

You never got to finish your book.

Just kidding, you never read a book

You could barely finish a magazine in the loo

Without soaking it through

with the shower head and the curtain

not pulled over quite right.

I miss your soggy magazines

Complaining about overuse of shower gel

Complaining about things I would kill or die to have again

It felt like nothing at the time

But it was a life.

It was right.

Now I'm soaking everything through

And not in a good way.

And our cat on the landing gone, too

And my heart: dead, like the pair of you

Now all that's left is cat hair, crumbs and

Silence

I'm still waiting for the next bit to start.

When’s it gonna start?




_____

Obsolete

What’s worse than knowing I’m dying?

Knowing the dog will outlive me.

 

I can’t even walk him today

But in a month’s time

or a year’s time

you and he will go walkies and play

you’ll call to him,

call out his name

and I’ll still be dead.

 

The dog will sleep in your bed

Alive

The dog will lie in your arms

Alive

 

But at least I know the dog.

 

One day,

even that dog will be dead;

the dog that outlived me.

 

He’ll be buried in the garden

and you’ll be alive

still

breathing and laughing

with someone I’ve never even met.

 

 

__________

 

Next door

I will remember you

The way you collected things

like I collect things

The cards and the memories

The religious keepsakes

Except you believed.

I’d always buy you angels.

A month ago, I found one I forgot to send at Christmas.

Next Christmas, I’d thought.

Every Easter,

Looking for a card with meaning

As I knew it meant something to you

And you meant something to me.

Do you remember all the times you helped me move house?

Carrying lampshades and cushions

With your packed lunch

and your Special Brew

You’d always ask for a posh glass.

Lost again with mum on the way home.

Another tale to tell.

Before that, were summers stretched out like decades

Crisps in the cupboard in your dining room

Cutting the grass in your garden

Your son was a brother to my brothers.

I remember you in bright purple

your clip on earrings

with glasses before your surgery.

That was classic Margaret.

I remember your sense of humour

How fucking blunt you were.

You knew your own mind

You were strong and kind

With no time for self-pity.

Your husband was killed the year I was born.

He has been dead as long as I’ve been alive.

I must have reminded you.

Did you know that you took us in on the worst day of my life?

You were there for me

For us

For my whole family.

You never cared who was right or wrong

You never took a side

You were the last person on earth

We all liked.

I’ll drive your car, now mine, to your funeral.

Still with the Virgin Mary on the dashboard

Still with St Christopher tied to the lighter.

And me
who has never believed in anything

I hope you got there.

__________________

Now

I remember you
against the pink of my bed
your eyes followed me
like the opposite 
of a sniper

no one had ever looked 
at me like that before

you were as pure as paper
but I was cynical
even then, with you eating me up 
with your eyes
I knew:

that the chemical of
lust and love
can change and become
a questioning of

‘why did you put you hand on his leg?’
or
‘your friend is coming between us.’



________________________

A written rap battle

You took my skeleton hand

down streets

where red and pink lights

had twinkled days before

Now naked buildings

shivered in the cold

but my hand was warm in

your gloved embrace.

Back in your room

you told me a story

of colours like ice,

nazi dictators

and a place where everyone could

read each other’s thoughts.

Then you looked at me,

and I knew.

You promised me tiles to build

a safe place to hide.

You showed me another way,

A way to be free like you.

Later,

In my dreams

we were covered in snow

Tiles painted with ravens

cracked like mirrors.

But when I woke

you were laughing

Everything around you

was pink

and orange

and I was yours.

______________________

Lunch

Before…

his pupils were massive

as he knelt between

my legs,

As we said

‘no we shouldn’t’

but of course, we did.

Afterwards,

he looked like

he’d just been told

someone had died.

He looked like a victim.

Or was that me? 

Back to the old house

I am transported there
My heart and head
Is where my home is
Nothing has changed, everything has changed.
The shops shrunken and shabby and stuck
I have moved on but they remained forever
The kids on the street meaner, nastier, stupider
Or am I just getting older?
And those words
That spelt the name of the street
That I lived in for eighteen years
Once as important as my own name
Now unfamiliar.
I walk walk walked
Past the dead end alley
And the berries crushed
into the ground like brains
As a child
I tried to avoid them
But now
The street is a photograph
And I am a giant
So I step and step and step.
Finally I reach you
My heart, my mother, my father,
My brothers and lost best friends.
Home.
It could have been then
The cat skitters by
Crying, left behind.
It feels like you were my lover.
Behind my doors and windows
A new family lived
The plaque, ‘Roseland’, prised from the wall
I see me within you
Ghosts
My dad throwing my mum out of the door
My brother punching a hole in the wall
I lost my first tooth
My glasses, my braces
My virginity
And my mother between these walls.
Inside
We were still inside
The five of us inside
The golden lion knocker on the door
I remember a time
When I wasn’t allowed to cross this road
Was I ever that small?



_______________