I've got some cheese and onion crisps
Half a packet of strawberry bonbons
And a kitkat that might have got wet on Crinkle Crags

I can't remember
the last time I saw my grandma
Or recall ever towering above her delicate, motherly body telling her I love her.

"It wouldn't have been the same without you"
"No, it wouldn't"
"In many ways"

I wonder what my dad meant by that
He likes to talk
And say nothing at all.

Man on the train furiously widens his eyes
At the piles of suitcases spewing from the rack
And curls his lips

Keith pouts like donald trump
So do I
Maybe it's genetic

I've got my grandma's genes too
She doesn't mind if I pout like donald trump
But she never liked bruce forsyth (who died last week)

Or maybe
The week before
"I've been watching strictly"

My older brother
Pulls out of the suffocating tar pit
Something nonflammable

I wonder what he meant by it
He likes to talk
He likes to say what matters

But what matters to him
And what matters to me
Isn't what matters to him

I've got a quarter of a packet of strawberry bon bons
And a kit kat that might have got wet on Cringle Crags

I carried a lady's suitcase
Over the bridge and
Back when the platform changed

She rewarded me
With information about herself
And I am grateful for that

She helped me
As simply and easily as I helped her
She gave me a smile to keep

What mattered to her,
Funny Welsh stranger,
Mattered to me
We swapped smiles
And walked off in brand new shoes.