McCartney

 McCartney

 

Not a chance meeting –

they sat across a table

arranged by his son

who forgot his I D,

had to run, did one,

left his father and his boss

to their lager, reminiscing.

 

Two old dads,

bonding over this soft lad

in a shared love of McCartney.

And soon, the top song?

The best LP? Band on the Run,

or maybe Venus and Mars,

strange to think

how years had passed

since they first toured London Town,

flipped Wings at the Speed of Sound.

Spin it on. Don’t stop.

 

The boss, wistful, grins –

because, he’s seeing things,

a father who took his son

to watch the maestro play.

 

Knew one who mullocked heroes,

mocked Lineker, Robson,

scoffed and sneered

at Gazza’s tears.

No time for long haired queers.

 

So, is it wrong

to feel for someone, never met?

Or trust the words of one

you wish you could forget?