The biscuit box is empty
The Home Body poems are read
At least today’s consignment
For my father was also a wagon driver
Delivering concrete pavement edges
To the navvies laying new roads
In this way I empathise, sympathise
With the poet Rupi Kaur
Yet I feel there is distance between us
Which makes the point, to me at any rate
That nothing changes, which you may recognise
As a David Bowie album, from back in the day
I don’t have a lot more to say
That album includes Let’s Dance
And we did dance, in one of my stories
