Poem nominated by
It's that vulnerable place where you are first thing in the morning…you're in that place where you're totally open to what might come.
It's not quite light
am I getting old?
old people wake early
half a croissant is on the desk
like a squashed crescent
and there's that record I bought
with the Soviet rocket sleeve
Around the corner in Highbury
Keith's cat has given you fleas
your bags are packed for Antibes
I wonder if I care about the right things
like rabbits dying slowly and Brexit
sometimes I’m secretly unfazed
I feel selfish and middle-aged
I'd like to play this rocket record
but I don't have a record player
the band are from Leeds, is that cool?
I can't work out if this is regret
or just the onset of dullness
I think I'll eat breakfast then sleep till noon
eat the remains of last night's moon