The Poetry Of..
Christine A. Clatworthy.
Breakfast at Stephanie's
For nineteen years he'd pissed her off -
that 'ting-ting' with his spoon
every fucking morning
on his cup.
And where was the logic?
Two lumps of sugar
with his first cup of coffee
just one with his second?
Forever saying, "George!
Do you always have to slurp?
Mind your bloody manners!"
But George never heard
as he hid behind the paper,
his beloved Daily Telegraph.
How he thanked his lucky stars
they still printed it in broadsheet.
"Is everything all right dear,
are our garden mushrooms nice?
They're up a smidgeon early -
global warming
I shouldn't be surprised."
"Flavour's to die for!" he'd exclaimed
as she presently recalled.
"Really glad you think so,"
she'd said, smiling,
as she stood and washed his plate.
Never liked them herself -
couldn't stand the taste,
which the Coroner remarked
was a blessing in disguise
what with George's sad demise.
Even top mycologists
sometimes made mistakes -
think a lethal Jack-O-Lantern
was a scrumptious Chanterelle.
Acrimony and Old Lace
Retrospectively,
I was merely passing through.
There were bells and a church,
the sound of hymns, wafting in the wind,
black and white memories, snapped on the porch,
distant relations in top hats and tails,
silk paisley waistcoats - all mothballs and Moss Bros,
crocodile tears, rice and confetti,
black cats and horseshoes, something blue,
something borrowed, sparkling champagne
and a girl, decked out in old lace,
no more than a child playing dressing-up games,
as she tossed me her bouquet - stephanotis and roses,
with a smile that her eyes were denying.
Remember thinking at the time, I knew her face
like I'd seen her in a film or in a play,
she looked strangely familiar, yet obliquely out of place.
Retrospectively,
she was merely passing through
this girl who was my sister, dressed in white lace.
The Beautiful Game
Spurs
White Hart Lane
a weekend with my Dad
there was me
all dungarees and pigtails
standing on the terrace
soaked with rain.
As I shivered
he wrapped me in his coat
held me close -
beautiful
that was.
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