Instead of you dying…
After Louise Adjoa Parker
let’s go to the Wee Red Bar, drink yellow
cocktails in pint glasses, end up at a party
where Big John from the Exploited’s in a bad mood
in his room. Find the cocaine man, towelling
dressing-gowned lecherous, thought he’d scored
bringing two teens home. Snorted and left
we could go Salvation Army shopping, buy
the same H&M ski pants, coordinate days
to wear them, avoid being clones, stay
up all night talking about the uncertainty
principle and Schrödinger’s cat, get chips
with salt ‘n’ sauce, and wine from Margiotta’s
why don’t we go driving near Farr? I’ll tell you
about the pandemic, how karaoke on Zoom
doesn’t work, and you’ll explode with laughter. Walk
near Loch Ness, and your ashes won’t be floating
with the blue and purple flowers, and you won’t
have spent New Year in A&E, or have yellow-circled irises
instead of you dying, I’ll phone, and you’ll sound
so pleased, and we’ll make a plan, and you’ll say
grand and you won’t cancel this time
you’ll be there, you’ll be there smiling.
S. A. MacLeod has had poems published by Coin-Operated Press and Dreich and short stories in the London Reader, Northwords Now and the Fish Anthology. She grew up in the north of Scotland lived in Japan for a while, and now lives in South-East London.