Yesterday being Remembrance Day
I made a point of remembering
And joined several hundred other rememberers
On the Town Hall Square
Where I bumped into Alec Simister
Who I hadn't seen for ten years
Now there's a man who could wear a bowler hat and rolled umbrella
As well as any city banker, retired guards officer
or Orange Lodge member
As Vlad the Impaler or maybe Chinghis Khan
"I pissed my sides" he said "when I saw you in the paper,
Writing poetry, is that your latest scam?"
He was never one to mince his words.
Constructed of dinosaur bones
His crushing grip staying on the hand for minutes
Then I drove to Stoke to visit my brother's grave.
It seemed a good thing to do it would have been his birthday today
Our street, which was falling down when we were kids
Is still falling down, the 70s makovers washed away by time
The entries seem to get narrower
But the cobbles, ever more subsided
Are still covered in dogshit
Our local pub Scrimmies, was as full as on any Sunday in my father's day
No miners now but everyone still looks old
Were these the people I went to school with?
I didn't remember them.
And they didn't remember me.
But the Bass tasted just like it used to!