Kim's Game at Some Remove
A G-plan coffee table so low you couldn’t sit on the
married quarters armchairs except on the edge
or the teapot would be too far away.
Next to the cups - in flat muddy green, standing
on contrasting white speckled saucers -
there are other time-tricked memories.
A spatchcocked paperback, Zane Grey
or Dennis Wheatley, racy covers
with lurid fonts, next to a Sunday Post.
A school report crumpled from a back pocket,
careful smoothing of the paper has
smeared the As into Bs.
Cigarette packets, one of those whirry ashtrays
that you pressed down on a knob to open,
a Ronson lighter and Mum’s Colibri.
A Black and White TV, off, nobody watched
that sinister girl and the blackboard.
Radio on. Waggoners’ Walk – No Archers here.
Afternoon tea, if “someone” visited,
not Peggy Hamilton who came round
to smoke and show the bruises.
No beer cans, whisky tumblers, long drinks,
not in the house, not then. Besides
what happened in the Mess….
The same furniture in different houses,
in different countries, in different times,
‘til the different memories are the same.