a dark skinned man
with a cursive blue
tattoo
his forearm
like
the Mary Poppins joke
about
the man with the wooden leg
is called Smith
his hair is shaved
on one side
longer on the other
his small child
hops about like a
bird
from dad to mum on
the opposite seat
eating a supervised
sausage roll
with instruction on
how to squeeze the sauce
without disaster
sated and settling
for a father's lap
the two lean back
together
to watch the suburbs
passing
his named arm
tattooing around the child
the tiny purple
plumbago flower
luminously tucked
into the close cut
hair above his ear
singing a perfect note
singing a perfect note
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