In Susan’s Room. England, May 1982

In Susan’s Room. England, May 1982

Outside.

Red roses and creosote. 

Overalls and medium wave. 

Jimmy Saville spins 

the hits from the years. 

Inside. 

We revise geography 

in our teenage underwear.

Motes of pollen swirl in

a roll. We can’t feel it

but somewhere 

there is air. 

On our radio, 

war correspondents dictate 

the truth of living and dying - 

the moments of in-between.

Then we hear of machines goaded 

by a twentieth century woman.

Her patriotic roast beef anecdotes 

told in a sweet white wine breath.

Of how we’re all going to get 

some fucking teeth knocked out

if we don’t listen.

On Ascension Island 

the troops are mustering.

Tomorrow begins 

the graduation term.

The final innocence 

before summer’s harm.