It's like that story
about the man trapped down the well -
the children found him but
they would not go for help.
There is no moral to the story;
the kids' paralysis
and the adult unable
to yoke them to his will.
I rap on work surfaces,
leave taps running,
appliances buzzing.
I interupt transmissions
to retrieve a bowl of kettle chips
from in front of the television
but it's all I can do
to get a grin-glance,
a name-check,
perhaps a quick hug
like a bouncer pat-search.
