Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Remembered Them by Les Wicks

Apart from just that once
Harry never discusses Vietnam
but I know.
My current crop of money
is eaten, but he’s got it much worse.
Harry hauls home his slab
like a fallen doe this
big white hunter but now
he stalks a good lie-down & yells a lot.

There’s wages attached, he lives alone.
Labourer Tigers supporter 60’s music Levi 501s birdwatcher
bodysurfer uncle long-term resident handyman
redhead greybeard helping-out asleep by 10 & wishes within reason.
That should be enough.

There is an irrefragable grace
as he tears apart old cars.
They never come together again he thinks he is
a 1985 Ford & dissection is his pilgrimage.

Yesterday, called those kids outside Asian cunts
& they beat him down to manners.
I shut my windows –
like a judgement.
Nothing broken, now that’s a stretch.
He’s another token taken
not spent, just stirred.
Been forgotten since the 80’s,
remember that.
 
 
 
previously published Getting By Not Fitting In (Island, 2016)