mum’s handyman

mum’s handyman stopped to lean on his mower
and watch as I pulled up to park the motor

two dark and perfect semi circles of sweat
hung like cartoon breasts on his nike vest

I’m not in the way am I, I said
he narrowed his eyes and shook his head

nice day for it I said, nice n’hot
he blew out his cheeks and said no it’s not

watched me as closely as a serial killer
as I got out my knock-off Colin the Caterpillar

some white and red flowers, five pound the pair
from the closest Morrisons to mum’s house there

I’m her son I said, so how’s it going?
I thought as much he said and carried on mowing

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