they
had a ham radio mast in the back-yard
with
the station in the garage
it
was the mid-sixties
so everything
felt modern
progress
was assured now
we
were nearly on the moon
my
first fumblings
with
either sex were unpromising
nuclear
annihilation was not assured
when
you are twelve that’s what it’s like
Robbie, I like this poem very much. If it's about yourself, I think we are of the same vintage. I turned 12 in 1965...and I was no more and no less a victim of my childhood than any other kid before or since. I wised up a couple of years after that. But I also have gentle memories of a time when it seemed we believed that science, maybe as amends for the A-bomb, was poised to make the world a much better place. Anyhow I spent a lot of time looking at lots of stuff with my microscope; I remember telling people I wanted to be a scientist - I wanted to enter Nature. Instead I became a poet. Which is maybe the same thing. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteI was twelve in '66 — progress seemed possible to me then not just because of science but also due to the influence of socialist ideas, though not of the Joe Stalin variety of course. Had notions of becoming an astronomer but that never materialised! Becoming a poet is similar, but pays even less!
ReplyDeleteGlad you like the piece. :)