Growing Up
—Paul Haworth
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Mr Harris
Had a stick
He used to beat us with it
But now
Now I’m drawing a line
On all that
All the lines
Are joined
Not by the boy
It’s pain
Pain time travels
Unravels towards the past
Where
I’m pushing for answers
Telling tales
Biting my nails
I watch lives
White-knuckle rides
The ultimate adventure
The rapture
Coming at you
Arrows and gun boys
Tarot cards
Throwing out your old toys
From gatehouses
To pillboxes
French horn is waiting
Waiting...
I dreamt of you in secret rooms
I read books
Books of spirituality
Love
Finding direction
Battling depression
Days I turned to Carrie
WHEN REAL PEOPLE
FALL DOWN IN LIFE
THEY GET RIGHT BACK UP
AND KEEP WALKING
And I couldn’t help but wonder
Where you are
Are you flying
Over handlebars
Fortune stars
Push Pops
Looking for Mars
Mostly
I see you in the underground
Where all it takes
To get out of bed
To get in the shower
Is what I’m saying
To get over you
Handles were fitted
To walls, doors, next to the toilet and in the shower
I tied a brush to a stick
To be further from what I was
A born painter
The feelings grew fainter
Until
Easily disguised
We listened to men
Singing IT’S OVER
And it sounded new
You making plans
Me deciphering the words on my hand
There are bats
That hang
In the bathroom
(We need to buy a new bulb)
Lurking
Squeaking
Hanging, I don’t doubt, from the towel rail
BATS IN THE BATHROOM
This is my life
And we’re trifling
Nobody loves you this way
If this love
Could melt
Into words
In the laughter and screams
Of the lovers
Of course
You must be this tall to enjoy the ride
P
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