It was the day after you gave the electric fire
to the couple that moved in next door
that the boiler started booming like hip hop
and the radiator turned as cold as Uncle Frank's arm
that day I checked for a pulse.
We huddled under blankets
wore every jumper in the wardrobe
and covered the windowsill with candles.
The neighbours must have thought we were starting seance
or that we really liked candles.
When we were young we didn't have electric
shivering was as natural as breathing
or looking at pretty girls on buses.
When I think back to those days
of linoleum floors and peeling wallpaper
I feel ashamed that this afternoon
I shouted at the girl in Starbucks
because they had run out of Frappuccino.
