Luyện nghe bài hát Nothing Important

I am born by Caesarian at 9:30 AM
in Mary's Maternity Hospital
on the 24th May, years ago today,
dangled by the ankle, across the bum,
in a blanket howling like a wheel.
My big brother on his tip-toes hisses 'I don't like him'.
He's Maradona, I'm Peter Beardsley, a ball through the mud
by the kitchen window, bellowing through the fern:
'Boys! ready!'
Dad is tuning in the telly beyond a mountain of spaghetti hoops.
I am
You are
Nothing
within a dream
Petrified on the back of a pedallo in the Sea off Alcudia
I can see the ghost of my uncle Derek waving to us the beach,
drifting out of reach,
the telephone reciever by its cord,
a glass of broken beer on the lino.
My mam slips into the
a polaroid of his
Clutching Good-Luck Bear I peer gingerly the side,
my nose up to the tide,
and there behold a barracuda chewing on a
and a family of hovering in the corpse's hair.
In the of the cub-hut my clarinet falls
a sack of flour - a flurry of pins
squashed the leather handle
a crescent of stricken fig-wasps.
Drizzling my with The Magic Sponge
Dad 'we'll probably have to chop them off'.
He collapses like a canvas tent on the floodlit
rent a fibula guide-rod poking a hole through his shin
There are teardrops in his
charging a flute of
down the aisle and out for a
A St.John careers between the sugary pillars of the wedding cake
A spoon
A tankard
words inscribed upon the base:
HAPPY RETIREMENT GRANDDAD IN THE WORLD
A toby jug filled to the with curtain hooks
A rug discoloured with tobacco smoke
within it's braids a rank
of plastic soldiers set to burst
in oils: a skiff on the swollen tweed
cradling a false
a seraph
an ashtray for a brain
- and I care about these things
Why do they remain so while the faces of my loved ones disappear?
A plate
a forking hairline of superglue through the Black Gate
a photoframe
frozen on an blurry orange
I remember all things
Old trophies
I am tethered by these
Thimbles and
I remember all these
A of Woolworth's price stickers
I can see all these but
where have all my people
In the end it meant to be.
He was the most beautiful thing that I had seen.
He survived for days
before he away