Close since you
were my Gaffer
20 years ago,
when naive,
and wanting
to impress,
I opted out
of the school tour
for your X rated
trip around
the sewage works.
Your obvious glee
in showing me
bloody sanitary towels
and used condoms,
supplemented with tales
of flushed lizards,
snakes and miscarried babies,
as your overall pockets
chinked with change
channelled to you
from the city grids.

Amongst monitors
leads and cylinders,
it's far easier
to dwell in this past;
ignore the fact
that your 'last',
my 'next',
will be linked
by this sixty foot
hospital corridor....

Chris Major

If you have any comments on this poem, Chris Major would be pleased to hear from you.