A
domino theory, proved
in
a pub-less, peaceful place
devoid
of faded spots
and
the back to back clack
of
six on six.
No
airless gym
with varnished floor
buffed
to perfection
and
filled with wooden warriors
as
yet un-toppled
by
the deftest finger flick
local
wall-sitters,
bored
with easy kickings,
bus shelters
and
laminated kiosks
wearing
chap cider smiles
to
'impress the birds'.
moved
on to the Graveyard
Follow
my leader,
off-ground
tick,
stepping,
stoned, as
Dr
Martens gripped the granite
smearing
dated marble tombs.
First
the ancients snapped.
Jutting
yellow tongues
tasting
their last meal
of
rubber sole and grassy heel
Then
the newly fixed and planted.
Presiding
over some
hammock
of earth,
cement
still wet.
The
jumbled names lay shattered
like
a broken-biscuit jigsaw .
A
dazed daughter
and weeping widow
exchanged
a piece of sky
for
a piece of son.......
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