Break Fast

He sat
cracking his knuckles
Over marmalade
Ignoring burned toast
Cold in the rack
And fixed me with
That all-seeing stare
The one that knew
When I'd been slack
Or told a lie

You need to sleep more
He pronounced
Dead cert
Pass me the juice
I laughed
Made obtuse remarks
About the bastard child
And loose women
From last night
Some wretched club

Will you come today?
I might, what time?
I work towards
The storm outside
He scoffs
Looks hurt
I brush aside
Move on with
Some other bind
That holds distraction

Two hours in
I wake the drink
Place it beside
Those black/white keys
And wheeze away
At tired lines
Dallying, daydream
Unable to find
A song for all
Half unfinished things

He comes in from the cold
Slings his coat
On a hallway peg
Strides into
The music room
And beams
They won
I try to seem
Awake or like
We hold connection

But we've always been
Too different
Two bookends
He rarely reads
Only trains or
Half-fic histories
And I run spent
To nowhere
On strings and lines
And trinkets

I wish I'd more time
Same, spun story
Spoken by man
Laugh of the gods
Chasing our tails
Cradle to grave
My temper quick
And him; so mild
I could be someone
Else's child

J. x