A poem for the day … Decommissioning

One from my 2003 collection, Blue Lamp Disco.


His uncle’s last Action Man,
stripped of everything
but a crown
of miniature barbed wire,

is pinned, the arms
outstretched, inside the door
of his granny’s jakes.

She’ll bust a gut.

This nephew gets
a box of cast-off weapons,
tools and uniforms
and half a dozen figures

sprawled in materiel.
‘That’s lush,’ he says. ‘That’s wheeker.’