by Mark Jackson
There was a time when . . .
Coca-Cola cans were crumpled
In November’s gutter light,
When hooded girls made hearts
Through stalled bus windows.
When tall, white hats chopped
Meat for tomorrow’s special –
Hot, cheap, for one day only.
We stood, walked, ran. Simple.
Our compulsive bustling
Found room amongst
Heart-shaped stickers and
Cross-haired steeples against
Lemon-meringue sky and
Chewing gum pavements,
A confectionary of sorts
In this, the city for all weathers.
Callous taxi drivers and
Flirty waitresses kept apace
Between downpours and sunshine,
When seasons of different length
Meant something, when time existed.
Days in search of nothing
But your new wardrobe and
Price tags the only casualty.
Close shaves, clean shirts,
Broken hems, plaid skirts,
Soaked trainers, mushy socks.
Once, twice, three times a week,
Never warm but never cold.
Nights with nuggets plus chips
And whoops, wrong side of town.
Same time next week?
Bitter tongue, filthy jacks –
A pain, the effort, sure work’s
Monday, no chance, can’t.
But actually, who knew?
It’s hot, cheap and
For one day only.
Mark Jackson is currently a second-year creative writing student at University College Dublin, where he is a member of LitSoc. He has had one short story and two poems published in various editions of Caveat Lector. In early 2019, he was shortlisted for the Marian Keyes Young Writer Award and in late 2020, he was awarded Second Prize in the NUI Dr Henry Hutchinson Stewart Literary Scholarship in English.
