The place was filthy,
hadn’t been cleaned for years.
The guttering and spouting
had fallen away from the house
and the roof slates were in disarray.
No light shone from any of the windows
in the dark,
though a man did live there,
unkempt;
he had never kept himself very well.
We used to see him in the street,
he was always carrying a large shopping bag.
He would stop the traffic as he crossed the road,
raising up his hand
as if cars were a nuisance in his way.
In conversation he would say to himself
‘No way back through the years here,
its only the body for me now.
I’ll visit Mars on the way to Jupiter
after this stop,
looking forward to my travels.’
As time passed by
no one had seen him,
he had died apparently
though his house had remained the same.
Of course, no one believed what he used to say,
people thought him to be just an eccentric - and worse,
some said he should be put away.
Perhaps he was on his way to Jupiter
as he died; who was to know?
© Chris English
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