Childhood

Painful nostalgic poem

Childhood

Sleeping after all that food
The three course wonder of
Sunday evening indulgence
That belies the bread and dripping
And finding a shilling nowhere
For the heat from coal drawn gas.

Childhood glowers, then parades.
I no longer fight flash remembrance
That winds and loops the thoughts
Of beatings from an open palm:
Urine across the carpet worse
Disgrace than purple bruises.

You might have loved him once
But now the stain alone abides.