Still Alive
A witness poem by Josef Hammer. Sodium light on stairwell tiles, a lapsed inspection tag, and a list of what can be carried.
Sodium light shakes on the stairwell tiles.My breath fogs the wired glass at the landing.The council PSPO notice curls at one corner.His rent card sits damp in my pocket.I read the inspection tag by the meter.Date lapsed. The digits hold still.I cover his socks with foil, quick.The boiler lockout sticker shows the code again.I tap the rating plate with a knuckle.The lock's teeth count as the key goes in.I list what we can carry: bread, mug, stub.Steam lifts from a kettle somewhere below.I shoulder the door till the frame stops it.The latch catches.
Filed · Josef Hammer