Non Sequiturs on a Saturday Afternoon

A sprinkling of spring sunshine and I bet people have already 

forgotten the crashes on the roads yesterday because of fog, 

but I'm not forgetting my best friend's had a stroke and can't even

remember that in the espresso-bar where we used to hang out, 

Tommy Trinder kept his trilby on while he chatted to the owner.

My dogs yank me past bad taste in music from open windows,

so I'm grieving a little more, hoping it doesn't show, especially

as a young couple's shiny new car makes mine a year older, 

and even more because someone has left an Australian beer can 

on a soggy mattress on the grass verge next to the paddock 

where a bored Alsatian barks at me ten times and gives up. 

Car doors slam behind me as barbecue-goers spill out and whoop 

very loudly because they think it's necessary for acting happy and 

the house they visit is bloody good at hiding its history of loss.

           .

Author's Note

Revised from last year after a nod from Pete Langley

Reviews

[_mal]

This poem perfectly conveys that feeling that the world is an awful pointless place that often comes when something terrible happens to someone you care for. Really well written

[Gerald Parker]

That's a nice response to my poem. Many thanks. Gerald.

[alanwgraham]

Very well observed and described random items. I like your sense of humour. Your final phrase leaves us with a question to answer. Well done!
Alan

[Gerald Parker]

Many thanks, Alan.