Hope upon hope fastened to a rope

Northumberland singer-songwriters are able

to articulate things the rest of us are barely capable of.

In some pubs it’s impossible not to order

Scampi Fries and join in with a conversation

at the next table with a group of people wearing

band t-shirts and old jeans

who you agree with about cricket.

We’ve not seen each other for months,

the three of us. We talk about new jobs

and old relationships and each of us

has to say ‘just in case you haven’t heard …

this has happened.’

In the urinals there are framed Where’s Wallys

at eye level and you can't stop yourself trying to find

that stripey lad and his dog. I am drunk

on 5.4% golden ale and I find him, standing

next to the ferris wheel, his hands in his pockets.

We’re all looking out for you, my dude,

all of us in this nice pub. We are allocated task

at urinals. We have someone to look out for.