Why did I put the electric kettle
to boil on the gas ring?
Luckily I forgot to turn it on
so it never did sing, after searching half an hour
for a mangled match, with which I lit the cigarette
I didn't smoke, because I gave up ten years ago.
So I count myself lucky that a uniformed man
crawled across the parquet floor, to lead me
from the black smoke of my confusion,
to where applauding people on the street in tears
greeted me like neighbours
who had known me for years,
yet I swear on my dead mother’s head stone,
even though she’s in a nursing home,
that I'd never met any of them before