
The van’s chock
full of tools
left to knock
against rolling cans
on the floor
‘cause the sparky
lifting me home’s
just got clean,
he’s in full bloom
happy as Larry
elbow out the side,
offers me a vile from a
glove-box fulla
homemade vape juice
and a sidelong grin
from a mouth
fulla gunmetal grey,
and I reckon right then
not knowing him
from a bar of soap
that he’s a good bloke,
as far as good blokes go.