Car Coat
Through all the subtle chicanes of his existence in the 1960s,
It was his constant companion –
That car coat redolent of hairpin bends and handbrake turns,
Bearing him along shopping parades and in and out of supermarkets,
Evoking pine-clad mountains and Alpine meadows
And the sophisticated heartaches
Of Bacharach & David songs,
Its pockets primed with cigarettes and menthol sweets,
Its collar turned up for raffish effect,
Quilted and poppered and cut short for ease of movement,
Economically negotiating a world of prawn cocktails and vol-au-vents,
Of frozen peas and Black Forest gateaux,
Always on the lookout for that checkout girl
Who would instantly recognise him and,
Slipping on a silk headscarf without a word,
Abandon her supermarket till forever
To accompany him on revving, rolling rides
Down roads the shape of trumpet solos
In the roaring rally car
That he would never own.