Secrets

[billy]

During my second breakdown, when I stalked through the fields
behind my old school, as night descended like a lid
over a tub of cold chicken, and I sought refuge with my Nan,
who arranged a taxi then waited at the door,
she and I shared what we thought were secrets. the whole verse is a 51 word sentence, for me it needs to be at least three in order to let the reader see it's flow, it would be a really really minor edit

I told her I was gay and she said “I know”
like a tender confirming the price of a drink.
We hugged and she told a tale of her known, did you mean own?
how as a girl she’d loved a boy who "everybody knew was queer",
effete and unattached as he was.

Surrounded by sedate portraits - one of a rose filled wicker basket,
another depicting dinner on the pier, a woman in a red dress,
two tuxedoed gents and a faceless waiter – cookbooks
and Wilber Smith novels belonging to her late husband,
I felt cold as her narrative reached its ending.

i love the way the main poem ends at the 2nd verse and you carry on by taking in the surroundings. i also think the cold feeling has more than the one layer. though women in a red dress felt to cliché in my opinion.

the narrative as usual is exemplary, it felt like a really special moment shared, a secret moment that's only now being told, and it feels real (whether or not it is or isn't doesn't matter).

on looking back and giving it a nth read, i think the;
over a tub of cold chicken

take a lot from the seriousness of the poem.
for me;

behind my old school, as night descended like a lid
and I sought refuge with my Nan,

works better, though the choice is as always yours

great read jack thanks

all jmo