We are in the back of the car

Puff Daddy is telling us he’ll be missin’ you
and our fingers smell of the greengages
we just picked from your Granny’s trees.
The seats are either leather or a material
I am too young to remember.
I am in the seat behind your Dad
and his brains are bulging through his skull
with stories from a job I’m scared of
and ancient wisdom like, The meaning of life
is a glass of red wine and a good book
The first greengage we chewed up that ladder
tasted as sweet as the time
we scoffed a pomegranate with toothpicks
and dry fried cashews over the hob.
I have no idea
Faith Evans was married to Notorious B.I.G.
My ears aren’t quite ready to understand sad.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

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