For Jer

Jer’s gone.
It’s only just struck me, that.
You’re Jerome now.
A Sunday name, full of reverence
And solemn-faced respect.

Just as I hadn’t called you ‘Jerome’
For I don’t know how long
Before that sod flicked you away-
Now, I can’t remember
The last time I said ‘Jer’.

Well, fuck that backwards,
If you’ll pardon the profanity
(NB: I know you will).
I want the joy back. And so
If I can’t talk to you,

Can’t have any new memories,
Then god knows
I intend to reclaim the ones I have.
Not the catheter ones,
Not the funeral ones,

Not the monochrome year,
The year you’ve missed,
(Although you’d be proud,
So proud, of your resolute, steely girl)
But all that went before.

From this moment I swear
That thinking of you will be fun.
I reject the twinge. I deny the wobble.
Everything of you is laughter.
Sleep well, Jerome. Hello again, Jer.

18 November 2011