gratitude
I
if I had to tell you about my friend John
he’s got a daughter, same age as mine
he’s listening to GoGo Penguin
in his favourite chair
nothing else about his day is optimal
but he’s leaning forward, head in prayer
there’s a lot of reasons
he could be drinking on his own
but he’s muttering a prayer of gratitude
for the day and for the life
and for all the goddamned people
even though he couldn’t tell you
—cos he doesn’t know—
what, if anything, he believes
II
he’s the king of understatement
everything reminds him of his childhood
except it’s not him, or if it is
something has changed
III
of course it’s raining
he’s already drunk
more than he said he would
do a lot of things
he hasn’t done
broken promises
like he was running
over a frozen lake
in spring
IV
so raise your glass to
John I raise my glass to John
drink to his good health
the mixer’s flat
but we don’t mind
Simon Alderwick‘s poetry has appeared in Magma, Anthropocene, Poetry Salburg, Frogmore Papers and elsewhere. His debut pamphlet, ways to say we’re not alone, is forthcoming with Broken Sleep Books in February 2024.