Divorce car



I said goodbye to my car

Watched it leave on the back of a truck

It’s turn for a piggy back


A man with large hands and dead little eyes walked around it tutting a conman’s maypole dance 

While I stood in the rain shrugging the tuts


I love that car

But it was my divorce car

The picking up and dropping off car

When no one had a firm idea of home


My dads divorce car was a Nissan Bluebird

I liked to think he was always in that car

I didn’t like the idea of the quiet of his bedsit

The bowl of soup at a table for four 

Nicer to think of him in the Bluebird

Dire straits loud on its tape player

A free man

Not a lonely one


Then I sat in my own divorce car

The car that leaves with you

There every heartbroken time you drop them…

Back, home?

It took me a while to say “to their mum”

Because back and home is me too


I don’t want to be the dad in a car

Tail lights saddening 

I’d see them waving in my rear view mirror

And it broke my heart a bit more each time


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