The sunshine madness has arrived again at last.

 

The lads who live out back

are stripping off to the waist and getting off

their face in the yard at the back of the flats.

 

And they’ve put a wheelie-bin on its side

and are using it as a table, and they’ll chat

and drink

and listen to banging tunes

for as long as they’re able

to stand without falling,

or spewing

or fighting.

 

And the beer garden at the Carlton is full to bursting,

and the sound of a dog barking is the worst thing

about a peach of a day that feels as though it was a

long time coming.

 

Sometimes,

it’s enough to grab an afternoon

from the display and run out of the door,

 

because every now and then you’ll

get away with it.