Poetry

The Wrong Cottage

Tim Goldstone

April 20, 2022

DrugsAddiction

The stone and slate dwelling
is hugged by a lean-to
where under a rusting corrugated-iron roof
a conical pile of coal —
wet and sparkling from rain —
has been delivered to the wrong cottage.

With her jumper stretched down over cold fingers,
the girl on look-out duty
at the bedroom window,
elbows resting on wood
that is soggy with damp,
gives a shout —

They laugh and they cheer
as finally Iestyn
appears on the track —
with that familiar lope,
with whisky and hash
and pocketfuls of mushrooms.

The bong being broken,
they get out the rizzlers,
and flick open a lighter to soften the blow.
No need for glasses,
they’ll pass the bottle
from mouth to mouth.

They’ll gobble the mushrooms
from the palms of their hands,
brew tea from the rest.
They'll smoke and they’ll laugh,
they’ll drink and they’ll fight,
then after the tears come the hugs.

Hallucinations are turning to fairy tales,
and at nightfall by candlelight they choose
to explore the brand new outside.
One of them sees the gate as a toad.
But they have yet to discover
the treasure is coal.

Tim Goldstone has roamed widely, including throughout the UK, Western and Eastern Europe, and North Africa, and currently lives in Wales. His short stories and poems are published in numerous journals and anthologies, including 11 Mag Berlin, The Offing, Crannóg, The Cafe Irreal, Rough Diamond Poetry Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, Flash Fiction Magazine, The Daily Drunk, The Mechanics’ Institute Review Anthology, Veil: Journal of Darker Musings, The Mambo Academy of Kitty Wang, and Pocket Fiction. Prose sequence read on stage at The Hay Festival. Poetry recently presented on Digging for Wales. Twitter: @muddygold