A funeral in Norwood
of the neighbour opposite
A widower who fought in the Korean War,
lent me a book on Darwin
as well as The Origin of Species.
The vicar told the one about going to another room
And I espied in my mind's eye
the pale lime green shiney embossed wall-paper interior
A water colour of a boat on the sea hanging forlornly on the wall
Roy had had stomach pains for a while
Try peppermint tea I suggested
In my new father's alternative wisdom
Nothing will shift it he says a month later
It's cancer he politely tells us a few days after.
His son, a nomadic young man, comes to stay
When his father dies we hope he will remain.
Take on the house
but he doesn't want the bother
doesn't want the legacy
the what's its name? the responsibility.
Is that how we do it then?
Tell ourselves we have a responsibility to suffer?
hello Mr Burden
I'm your responsible adult
Roy's just gone to another room
says the vicar
forgetting that the whole concept of rooms and houses
is a kind of death sentence.
A cell now that's a living thing
But a room?
That's Sickert's Ennui right there
After all rooms have light bulbs
That need changing.
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