Last Year’s Jam Was Better
McGinty breaks the mould, he picks the scab
He swigs his tonic wine in the rotting doorway
Across the street a dog scratches at its bellybutton
And sniffs its own backside
A car drives by crushing a discarded paper cup
I loved the taste of last year’s jam
This year shall not be its equal
Eight rainless weeks saw to that. Then endless rain.
And the weeds returned like useless clutter
I need another holiday
The fence is broken
Sometimes the car wont start
I always knew that Life will always be like this
A bird flew into my window glass half an hour ago
It lay flapping on the path until a cat got it
The tins of soup a dying mother never ate
Uselessly fill my cupboard shelves
I cannot eat them as I do not like Oxtail or Scotch Broth
There is no room for my own groceries
Yet I cannot bin them - for she hated waste
No charity shop will take them - I have phoned around
In desperation I got caught doing reverse shoplifting
The Asian shopkeeper found me placing my cans onto his shelves
I left quickly, backing out, apologising. Carried a dozen tins back home.
I put them back in the cupboard and closed the door.
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