He wasn't from
round these parts.
I asked for rum and black.
He rolled his cigarettes
with liquorice papers.
In my seventeen
year old eyes,
this was sophistication.
I once saw him walking along the railway line.Railways... it was always railways with him,
he even wrote a book of poems
- Train Spotting long
before the famous one
I saw him walking along the railway line.He was wearing a shirt the same colour
as the sky, hand in hand with a small child,
Over the years,
like parallel tracksrolling towards
We could talk about structuralism,post-modernism, revolution and Milton
- poke fun at lecturers.
My best memory?A summer's day standing in someone's
garden and him saying let's get drunk
and we did slowly emptying the fridge
like naughty boys stealing cakes
from Auntie's pantry.
Now the world has indeedbeen turned upside down, you finally
disappearing right over the horizon,
fizzling out like the filament
in the final light bulb.