What Did You See?

   What was then there left to make you walk into the bright lights?

I couldn’t see through the light.

The waves falling all over the place, a few Kentucky Fried Chicken bones waiting

to be discovered at the back of the cupboard.

We searched the waste bins at the back of the supermarket to find a box of weeks-past-their-use-by date hamburgers, which were nailed on to a painted board by an artist.

They never rotted, because there were no nutrients in them to spoil.

So that was it... there was nothing more to be said, done or explained

as the last train left town and we crouched behind the bales of wool until the railway policeman’s torch had passed over them,

waiting to see what the city was really like.

We never even said good bye,

but then no one

would even notice

we had gone.

The night before

he stood in her garden and watched her bedroom window

on the second floor

and she was coming down to talk to him

but when she arrived at the front door

there was only the tree

standing under her window,

but that was many years ago,

so long ago that there is no longer any recollection of it in his emotional memory,

divested of all sentimental value by the lassitude of years passing,

winding the key in the back of the tin-drum playing monkey,

and fooling no-one.

He couldn’t wait any longer

and the doctor gave him these little pills

designed to stop people from becoming over anxious.

It was certain

from then on

he could continue along the path he dreaded

without restraint,

anesthetized

against turning back.

The dole made life bearable for them,

as much as a five buck note can

when given to a child

by a father who isn’t there

for the birthday.