by Alan David Pritchard

Created on: October 29, 2008

Figs

Remember when, you probably won't

not that it's too long ago,

that funny sunny faraway day

when things were just perfect and everything smelled of

cheap after-shave?

You probably don't

we shared rude jokes,

mine, silly; yours, needing to be explained.

And when it rained, remember that? Remember

the spit of summer showers - the monkey's wedding,

you said, that's what they call it, cos it happens at the same time,

like our getting a hiding after stealing

was it figs? you know I think it was, figs,

there's a funny word,

like friend. Figs and God it hurt,

that hiding,

that beating for telling others I saw you cry.

Although I never said a word about the wet pants, I swear.

And remember when we went off to university?

You grew up so fast. But you still told me things,

like why God doesn't exist, and why, when things go wrong,

there's usually someone to blame, like the government.

And remember when they locked you up? When you

carried that rude banner protesting about

something I can't remember.

And all because you were bunking off lectures.

I can't forget

that it was me you called instead of your folks.

Remember, nah I know there's no point,

I was your best man at both your weddings,

and I was really happy for you, twice.

And remember when I told you about my boyfriend James,

remember that day? When it rained while the sun shone,

when you nodded while I went on and on,

like you probably do now about your grandchildren.

Who can remember?

There's nowt as queer as folk.

Yet, I cannot believe that you have forgotten

the very last day that we ever spoke.

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