Absenses

Absences 

Absent of dog or cat but my Dad

barked and my Mum meowed upstairs

in their unheated, carpet-less bedroom. 

We muted them with Showaddywaddy.

Decades folded. The canine and feline relentless —

scratching and howling under a new town moon.

My brother and I grew pale from Joy Division and glue,

the sting of Brut and cried after girls in Yardley.

Today, my fragrant years rattle and snort 

through thirty seven days of rain and worry.

My feral parents love in the pages of poems.

There are people like you who think its easy.