I come from
I come from ‘kiddy’ like
From angel named and dad’s girl
From ‘Ser Bear’ can have what she wanted.
I come from Mums are so sensible
From the smell of Jeyes’ Fluid and Tea Tree oil
From dentist visits and “clean up please.”
I come from having a silver cross and my hero’s St Christopher
From talking to myself and him talking calm sense to me.
From “if it’s worth you having baby, it’s worth you fighting for.”
I come from protests at tinned peas
From chocolate please
From “baby is so funny, just like her mummy.”
I come from the smell of Nan’s apple pies
From picking blackberries along the road
From an older man, spinning lies…
I went to “Marry me please”
To a home among tall pine trees
To paper immigration and Canadian contemplation
I went to our broken dream
Then the angriest of screams
Then our marriage ripping at the seams
I came back to Dad’s large arms
To nanny’s home charms
To mummy’s clean and my brokenness unseen.
It’s “Kiddy like”
Its ride your bike.
Its multi-coloured rivers
From factory carpet dippers.
Its many cars on their way
For who would want to stay.
It’s not Birmingham or Worcester
But an intertwined waster,
It’s a town with a city sound.
It’s got no shop centre
Its inhabitant’s dissenter
Its generic supermarkets, Give it some spit.
Its “kiddy like” to have a fight
It’s Park Street’s weed that fills the night,
It’s the canal towpath meet
Its youth who you’ll greet
Its police ASBO warnings
It’s yawning but not at all boring
It’s my gang and our click.
“You Jubilee Drive or Brinton chick?”
Are you ‘kiddy’ Harriers Proud?
It’s Saturday massing Saturday crowd.
“Yer it’s kiddy like”
It’s “get on ya bike!” or “take a hike!”
If you’re not ‘kiddy’ like.