Luyện nghe bài hát Nothing Important

I am born by section at 9:30 AM
in Mary's Maternity Hospital
on the May, sixty years ago today,
dangled by the ankle, smacked the bum,
in a blanket howling like a wheel.
My big brother Iain on his tip-toes hisses 'I like him'.
He's Maradona, I'm Beardsley, chasing a ball through the mud
followed by the kitchen window, through the fern:
'Boys! ready!'
Dad is tuning in the telly beyond a mountain of spaghetti hoops.
I am
You are
Nothing
Death a dream
Petrified on the of a pedallo in the Balearic Sea off Alcudia
I can see the ghost of my uncle Derek to us from the beach,
gently out of reach,
the telephone reciever by its cord,
a glass of broken expanding on the lino.
My mam slips into the
a of his sweetheart
Good-Luck Bear I peer gingerly over the side,
press my up to the tide,
and behold a barracuda chewing on a chrysanthemum
and a of clownfish hovering in the corpse's hair.
In the scullery of the my clarinet falls
into a sack of - a flurry of pins
squashed the leather handle
a crescent moon of fig-wasps.
Drizzling my fingers with The Sponge
Dad says 'we'll have to chop them off'.
He like a canvas tent on the floodlit astroturf
rent with a fibula guide-rod a hole through his shin
are teardrops in his moustache
charging a flute of
the aisle and out for a throw-in
A St.John ambulance between the sugary pillars of the wedding cake
A spoon
A tankard
these words upon the base:
HAPPY RETIREMENT BEST GRANDDAD IN THE
A toby jug filled to the brim curtain hooks
A sheepskin rug discoloured with tobacco
within it's braids concealed a
of soldiers set to burst underfoot
in oils: a skiff on the swollen tweed
cradling a pearl
a ceramic
with an ashtray for a
- and I don't care about things
Why do remain so clear while the faces of my loved ones disappear?
A Rington's
a forking hairline seam of superglue the Black Gate
a digital
frozen on an blurry thumb
I all these things
Old trophies
I am tethered by these
Thimbles and
I all these things
A of Woolworth's price stickers
I can see all things but
where have all my people
In the end it meant to be.
He was the most beautiful that I had ever seen.
He for seven days
before he slipped