It’s Hancock’s Half Hour in retrospect
It’s weaning yourself off worry with lovesickness
It’s Sillitoe’s old factory shoes
It’s the hope that the film of the world you live in will never be colourised
It’s hot infatuated blood as your only source of warmth
It’s a cat on the roof of the library overlooking the footballers
It’s a house which may very well never see the future
It’s a town which may very well never see the present
It’s falling in love with someone because of their idiolect
It’s saying “that’s rum” to a friend and not realising they don’t know what that means
It’s tobacco souring the fresh cool drizzle
It’s cool playground metal beneath your hands
It’s the fog of tears in the school toilets
It’s closing the door behind you and starting to walk

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