Much too late
for thoughts
of what her father
might say

Fay went with you
to the Globe cinema
in Camberwell Green
a right fleapit of a place

but the film
you wanted to see
was on there
Daniel Boone

all about the Old West
and after it was over
and you came out
into the bright sunlight

your eyes felt
over whelmed
after the darkness
of the cinema

what did you think?
you asked
Fay said
yes it was good

not the sort of film
Daddy would have let me see
well he won't know
you've seen it

will he
you said
unless he asks me
then I'll have to

tell him the truth
she said
why would he ask?
you looked at her

standing there
with her fair hair
and lovely blue eyes
he might ask me

what I have done today
she said
her eyes beginning
to show signs of fear

maybe he won't
you said
just tell him
you've been studying

American history
she looked at her hands
he doesn't like America
or Americans

she said
well you don't have to
like something to study it
I have to do it all week

at school
you said
maybe he won't ask
she said softly

looking at you
fiddling with her fingers
distract him
tell him something else

talk about a butterfly
you saw on the bombsite
she looked at you
and smiled

you don't know him
he'll ask me
what sort of butterfly
and I won't know

and he'll know
I've been lying
and that will mean
being punished

she looked up the street
toward the bus stop
we had better be getting back
she said

he'll be home soon
ok
you said
and took her hand

and walked toward
the bus stop and waited
for the bus
if I told my mother

the truth all the time
she'd have a nervous breakdown
it's more kinder
to keep her happy

in innocent bliss
of what I get up to
Fay looked haunted
and was silent

she still held your hand
a fading bruise just visible
on her upper arm
where her dresses sleeve

moved
how about some ice-cream
when we get back
I've got a Shilling

given to me
by my old man yesterday?
she hesitated
ok I’d like that

she said
and when the bus
came along
you both got on

and sat next
to each other
downstairs near
the conductor

watching the scenes
of passing people
and traffic go by
but a special place

in your mind and heart
of Fay
next to you
quiet and shy.

Janice of red beret fame
with fair hair
to her shoulders
and dressed slightly better

than the rest
of there about
invited you
(with your mother’s

permission
and her gran’s invitation)
to tea after school
in the upstairs apartment

not far away
what did you want
for eats and drink?
Janice asked

bread and jam
you replied
bread and jam?
she repeated

as if you’d asked
for caviar on toast
no you must
have more than that

she said
Gran what’s for eats?
and her gran
came into the lounge

where the cosy furniture
was set out in place
neat and tidy
with a canary

in a cage
on a stand
and her gran related
a list of things

you could have
far exceeding
what you usually
had at home

cheese and cress
sandwiches
you said
please added on

as an afterthought
and Janice
had the same
to be like you

and her gran went off
and Janice said
she likes you
says you have more breeding

than some round here
o
you said
thanks

and you pushed
your hand
through your hair
and pulled

your school jumper
in place
and tightened
the tie

we’re going
to the fairground Saturday
will you come too?
you hesitated

and took in
her fair hair
and her fine features
and prim gaze

I’ll have to see
what my mum says
you uttered
o she won’t mind

Gran’s already
mentioned it I think
Janice said
well yes then

you said
I’d like that
she smiled
and spoke

of learning French
at school
and the teacher
who took her

for that and history
she’s a dear
and positively a beauty
I’ve got Ashdown

and she’s plump
and has an ****
like a hippo
you said

Janice choked
and sputtered
with laughter
all at the same time

that’s so rude
she said
putting her small hand
to her mouth

gosh don’t let Gran
hear to speak like that
or you’ll be off
her good boy list

as swift as lightening
you sat bemused
when her gran came in
with two plates

of sandwiches
what’s so funny?
she asked
putting the plates

on the table
o nothing much
Janice said
Benedict told me

a little joke
o well as long
as it wasn’t rude
Gran said

o no
Janice said
and looked at you
o no

you muttered
just a innocent joke
from school
her gran went off

to get the drinks
if Gran heard me
say thinks like that
she’d tan my backside

and no mistake
Janice took a bite
of her sandwich
and you ate yours

listening to the canary
sing and the bell it
rung inside the cage
and her gran singing

from the kitchen
in a soprano voice
and you took in
Janice’s light blue eyes

wherein you thought
but did not say
some good part
of beauty lies.

rose petals
and daisies
twisted around
your heart

cherry blossoms
entwined into
your shattering
soul

the most broken
and corrupted
parts of
you

growing into
something that
is so incredibly
                              
                  beautiful

I see timber, I see my Dad.*
The wrinkled grain grin
sits lost on his face,
he’s selling his timeless record collection:
the finest midlife crisis since records began.

Lined bits of paper with a pen and plan,
bass players and guitarists are all being sold,
including the front man,
microphone, monitor and stand.

Under the slim light, what’s
going to be sold is exposed
ready for a thorough cleaning
of the black gold moulds.

None of us are allowed near, we have been told,
this is a strict operation and it’s under control,
he starts spouting tiny liner note quotes
none of us understand, we need a translator- grab your coats.

We returned to a mess of a man:
he did not go through with his midlife crisis plan.
His extra 3000 children in their sleeves
can sleep safe tonight knowing that everything will be all right.

The mountains went green
some time ago.
The flowers opened
some time ago.
The road did smile brown
some time ago.
The birds sang again
some time ago.

All beauty returned
some time ago,
All of it except
you.