Advent poem 2: The Holiday Inn

Anthony Wilson, , , ,

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The Holiday Inn

 

 

Northerners. But honest.

Him, hands like shovels,

his eyes brimming and fish-flick.

And her, well.

 

You get used to not asking.

Any space at all they said.

We’ll take anything.

I gave them the shed

 

after getting a roasting

for looking a gift horse

in a recession.

A booking’s not what it was.

 

It’s where I keep the Triumph.

My baby.

I couldn’t help wondering

where I’d put the WD40.

 

I saw his head crowning,

then there he was,

bruised, not an inch of pink on him.

She never took her eyes off him once.

 

The sky lit up like Christmas

suddenly – a police chopper

looking for insurgents

some said, or a nutter.

 

I lost the booking slip in the end.

Got roasted for that, too.

Might have fetched a fortune.

Paperwork was never my strong suit.

Published by Anthony Wilson

I am a lecturer, poet and writing tutor. I work in teacher and medical education at the University of Exeter. My anthology Lifesaving Poems was published by Bloodaxe Books in 2015. In 2012 I published Riddance (Worple Press), a collection of poems, and Love for Now (Impress Books), a memoir, about my experience of cancer. The Wind and the Rain, my sixth collection of poems, is available now from Blue Diode Publishing. My current research project, funded by the Foyle Foundation, is Young Poets' Stories: https://youngpoetsstories.com/. This blog is archived by the British Library.

17 Comments

  1. This is beautiful.

    Thank you for all your posts but thank you for this one in particular.

    Wishing you and your family a safe and happy holiday.

    Tracy T

    Sent from mission control

    >

    Like

    Reply

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