I sip fruity ale and say it rained in London –
the sort of rain you couldn’t see through
or the kind a film character would have to
hold a newspaper above their head
while running from the bus to the office.
I say it rained harder and longer growing up
down south between summers of pogo sticks
and drawing wonky tennis courts on cul de sacs
with Jason’s dad’s chalk. I say it rained
one Christmas Day. I sat in my room and played
Crash Bandicoot with one hand
in a tub of Salt and Vinegar Pringles. It’s true,
it rains every single day up here,
for at least 20 seconds. It’s important for my son
to see it come and go and to see me
let it wash down my face.

Carl Burkitt 2024

Written while listening to ‘Tears Are In Your Eyes’ by Yo La Tengo.