Champagne
It's the only time my schoolbag
has come in handy.
I tip my books, pens, jumper
out on my bed
shake yesterday's sandwich, squashed,
from the bottom of the bag.
I go to the kitchen
take the beer,
last night's leftovers,
some glossy red apples,
Dad's champagne and cigarettes,
load my schoolbag,
my travelling bag,
leave the bottle of lemonade on the table
with a note,
"see ya, Dad.
I've taken the alcohol.
Drink this instead
to celebrate your son
leaving home."
The old bastard will have a fit!
And me?
I'll be long gone.
(page one)