Dan Tindall

 
 

Poetry

How the day went...

(How the day went from the blissful early morning to sweeping sunset, without pause or patter, without sugar or smoke, without the benefit of a sudden departure from the script)

 

We boarded the caravan some little time ago

One door each way

Frosted glass panels

Dim light from outside

Illuminating the drab nylon covers

On the grey chairs

-          These magazines are about 100 years old

-          The pages are stuck together on this one

-          That must be for gentlemen only

She stares at the clock

She looks beautiful in this pale light

Cheekbones lifting her face

From the doldrums of approaching middle age

-          What are you looking at?

-          You

-          Well stop it, it’s annoying

Once upon a time

She wanted nothing more than my adoration

But now she has grown bored of me

 

Up she gets

Swift

Fluid

Animal

To the door

Raps her fist on the surface

Hard

Twice

And again

It sounds curiously flat

There’s no sound from without

Again

Again

 

On the table there’s a magazine

‘Bliss’

I pick it up

Pleased to find it’s not sticky

It has stories of human tragedy

Heart-warming reunions

Cute photos of people’s kids

Doing cute kid stuff

 

She is called

And then gone

 

And beyond the limit of this horizon

I am surprisingly early

For an appointment

Of my own

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