Albufeira.
Here, where my parents’ hearts still live
Present eternal in lights dancing seas
I navigate cobbles as they did then,
Careful and grey as they seemed to me when
They were alive and I younger than them.
My heart, once theirs, both hurts and scorns
Others who come from the place we were born,
Fat pink Brits and their fat pink kids
Barking out orders for burgers and tea,
Parasites lacking in plain courtesy.
Here where my parents’ hearts still live
Breathless and spectral as boats’ lights at sea.
A girl on a call to her beau back home
Calls him a cunt on the telephone
Promises him that she’ll cave in his head
The fucker’s a twat and she’s telling him now
He’s nothing to her and is useless in bed
Here where my parents were happy to be
Silently glad of their place by the sea.

