Rag man's horse

I can see the rag and bone man’s horse

Creamy white with brown patches

Piebald, is it?

Dirty-looking

Old

 

It wore blinkers

Heavy, leather

Brown

 

It was old, I’d say

Like the rag man

Same temperament

 

He walked along beside it

Shouting “Any ra-a-a-gs?”

From the corner of his mouth

Wore an old grey overcoat

Long hair

Brown, greying

Greasy

 

He’d stop the horse if you had something

Say some special words they knew

Said its name

 

It stood stock still

Ears twitching

Flick its tail

 

He’d look at what you had

Maybe give you thrupence

Throw it on the cart

 

The bones were made of metal

A washing machine, maybe

Or a bike

 

He’d grab the reins

Click with his tongue

Limp alongside

 

I can hear the segs in his shoes

He’d speed up a little

Shove his hand on the cart

Lift himself on

 

Maybe that was where he got his limp

“Any ra-a-ags?”

 

We had a rag bag in the garage

Nailed to the wall

A sack really

 

My uncle used to pick through it

“You’re not throwing that out, are you?”

He’d ask

 

My dad used the rags for the car

For wiping his hands

When he’d worked on the engine

If my uncle didn’t get them first

 

The rest went to the rag man

 

It’s after five

 

The toilet door’s just closed again

Eighth or ninth time, maybe

 

I’m copying the final album

Vinyl into MP3

Side 4

 

Won’t tell you what it is

Twenty-eight years ago

I listened to it all night long

The day I heard about my brother

 

Tripping

 

I don’t know what happens to the time