Fine

Michael downstairs told Andy: I’m a goner
Fist to his chest: It’s this big already.
Then drove off in his dark red Skoda.

All that night, a cat mewled from inside
Michael’s locked-up garage, part-ghost
Kept us awake. Gave the kids the willies.

In the morning, Michael still hadn’t returned
And we spooned Whiskas under the door.
Serves it fucking right though if it dies, I thought.

After all, it had done for the fledgling sparrow
That had fallen from its nest a few weeks back.
I drowned the cat’s moaning with Kiss FM

While I cleaned the car, chucked buckets of water
Over the bonnet and scraped off pigeon crud.
This old Toyota’s done OK, I reckon

Save for the time when the exhaust collapsed
On the M25 and dragged for at least half a mile
Before I managed to reach the turn-off.

Then Michael came back at last. I asked:
How are you? Fine, he said, then opened up
The garage door. The cat scarpered.

Standard

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