Poem 38: Mummy’s Boy

I saw your son
this afternoon
sitting opposite me
on the train
eating peppermints
fro a large paper bag
unsure
of the people
he watches
as they change stops
whatever it was
you wanted for him
I don’t think
he achieved it
his shirts
are nearly clean
his trousers
almost pressed
always carries
a clean hankerchief
just in case.

he kept that job
and he’s put on weight
since
you last saw him.