Poem, Poetry

Gareth Culshaw


He wore a hat on each foot.
Put socks on his hands.
When the neighbours saw him
he said he got dressed with his
eyes closed.

Some said when his wife died
he found out who he wasn’t.
The pool cue he carried between pubs
stayed in the hallway, leaned against
the wall like an umbrella.

He still washed her clothes
and hung them out on the line.
If the postman knocked he answered
him through the bay window.
Took his post via his mouth.

If it rained he swapped his hat
and socks. If the sun came out he
swapped them back. But if frost
came he did not know what to do,
so left them at home on the sofa.

Gareth lives in Wales. He has two collections by FutureCycle called The Miner & A Bard’s View. He is a current student of Manchester Met.