Not Pictured

posted in: Poems | 0

Years later, who cares

about grains of sand stuck to my feet

like chequered memory of table cloths,

 

or the first taste of strawberry milkshake

or spaceship steam coffee machines,

the jukebox sound, warm as waves

 

rolling off the Atlantic, breaking

on glowing beaches hot as Mercury, or the hard fact

that it tasted of neither strawberries nor milk

 

or the jukebox sound, warm as waves

from glowing valves and faulty speakers,

grains of sand stuck to my feet

 

like chequered memory of strawberry milk shake

rolling like music off the Atlantic

breaking on beaches hot as Mercury

 

or the hard fact that my dream Stars and Stripes vest

was too fly by night for Dad’s liking

and tasted of neither strawberries nor milk,

 

or the hard fact that when the waves rolled back

from glowing vision in faulty memory,

the first taste of neither strawberries nor milk

 

was years before my Stars and Stripes vest,

detail dropping like dry sand on lino tiles

in chequered rooms with tablecloths,

 

spaceship steam coffee machines, the jukebox

sound breaking on ears hot as valves

and tasting of neither strawberries nor milk.

mm
Follow Jimmy Andrex:

Poet, performer, propelling pencils.

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