the typewriter
The Typewriter
When a boy, the world appears near
climbing over fences, no need to open a gate
Across our house, a grey building, a school
for those who wanted to be welders or
architects or some other trade.
The caretaker had many keys, we thought
he was the boss, wore a yellow coat
and walked with dignity
He shouted at us kids to show who
tough he was, but most of the time
he let us play in the schoolyard
in a ditch, a trapped cat. we lowered
a bucket down for the moggy to jump into
but it was not willing, the boss, told us
to leave the puss alone to get up by itself
On a clear sky, we saw a plane with two
tails, and it was 1952
Since not even the boss had seen a plane
like this, we thought it was from another
planet, perhaps not from Mars as a bloke
like Elon Musk dreams about.
It was easy to believe people living
on other planets, we know better now, but
the thought is still there
Having read a book about the Hardy boys
we became spies, picked likely victims at
the railway station and followed him around
Yes, it was always a man in a suit, female
spies didn't know how to spy, who wrong
we're
the man we followed met some other men
they went into an alleyway, one of them had
a bottle, after a while they spoke loudly and
sang, someone called the police
alone in the park one day it was overcast
looked like rain, I walked into a place
it was a library, warm and cozy, the staff
let me stay and I spent many happy hours
reading about great adventures
I retold the stories to the lads but of course
put myself as as the hero
My broth came home with an enormous
typewriter, on it I was tapping away trying
to make sense of my many thoughts
Mother told me to stop, but my attempts went
on her nerves, she was always reading
Copyright © Jan Hansen | Year Posted 2024
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