The Slight Stroke


7.30pm 1974

He wears a green boiler suite,
An Irish spaceman in steel toe
Capped moon boots, pockets full
Of copper wire, bobbins & nylon.
He wears brilliantine hair cream
& hold’s my hand in his fist.

9.25pm 1975

His smile turns to mercury
then slides down his face,
His own body turns on him
a blood-clots Judas kiss.
.

12.15am 1976

He is left open, a living autopsy, he dices for his life.
No soldiers play for his clothes, only mother & son
Wait near; my hand strokes my father’s rag doll fist.

7.30pm 2006

Now he wears a slow silver shocked look
Carries a wooden sceptre in his soft grip,

Burns his bridges behind his fiery cataracts
And steps like an iron man in a world of rust.



John G.Hall©2006