What did I do before you were born?
Worry about someone else’s death, I guess.
When your lip exploded in the Waitrose car park
yesterday I felt Grandma’s hands
as my left cheek slid off like ham
in a supermarket’s deli meat slicer.
The man behind us in the pub says,
Trains don’t go ‘choo choo’ anymore,
they’re all electric these days.
You take advantage of not understanding
full sentences and point through the window
at the track with passion stronger than time.
Choo choo. My bones relax like a suit
hung in a wardrobe after a wake.
© Carl Burkitt 2022