A Thousand Years

My Valentine’s jelly-pot sits in the fridge.
On top of the rotting burgers.

They say eat protein. It’s the only way to heal.

But you cannot plug the holes with jelly.
It barely has substance.

We had two books in our house.
An encyclopaedia for ‘idiot children’ and a junior bible.

But it wasn’t enough to plug the holes.

I liked the pictures.
I did not understand the words.

How can you understand words when nobody speaks.
When you are an ‘idiot child’.

The police came again.

Everyone starts their eternity as a good person.
It’s just sometimes they have to come to your door.
To make sure you pick up the phone.
And get up from the floor.

They try to plug the holes.
Give you kind words to go with the pictures.

I remember the smiling baby.
His face was pink like strawberries.
The animals in the garden.

(I try not to think of shaking the dog)

The tiny map of the world.

(I try not to think of where I have not been)

Tomorrow I shall eat my jelly.
I will try to plug the holes.

A thousand years of something missing.