Old spice

my dad smells of
old spice
it's what he wears

when i was younger I had a
pencil case
with brut 45 on it
in the shape of
that green bottle

one saturday
we drank a lot
in a dark pub
pumping with
beat

it didn't seem right
to see him there

i swallowed
jack daniels
doubles
with ice

and played pool
with french men
on a break
from the posh hotel
opposite

while my dad watched

i kept smoking
around the corner
it still doesn't feel
right to smoke
in
front
of him

a strange man
engaged us in
conversation
he sounded
south african
and had left
when mandela opened
shop

my dad hated him
called him a c.u.n.t

he was.