Blink in the Bathroom

Shove another fucking
vitamin pill
down my throat
on a wet Sunday in August

Don’t even remember
why
anymore

A copy of ‘Cider House Rules’
is
nestled upon wicker
the laundry basket
dirty socks
and John Irving

I think of my Dad
recall the winter
he gave me
‘Water Method Man’
I was skint
waiting on my first pay cheque
at a new job
that had more minutes
than memories
always sitting
always inside

After fourteen months on the road
I was officially stood still
and he gave me
my first glance
of Irving
his humour
his bears
and his wrestling