David Selzer is a writer of poetry, prose fiction, screenplays and stage plays. He embraces digital platforms to share his work of more than fifty years… READ MORE


  • MY UNCLE TOM

    With the six o’clock news on Thursdays,

    Uncle Tom, smelling of sweat and sawdust, brought

    the Dandy – and the Beano! Unlooked-for,

    like a lodger, in the bare, spared room over

    the hall of brasses and ‘Off Valpariso’,

    bachelor Tom had no more substance

    than Lord Snooty or Desperate Dan.

    He had been gassed twice and died of bronchitis

    the year the King died of cancer. I lost

    his chisels, which he honed but never used,

    one by one in the garden. I cannot

    shape my memories into life. His tools

    rust in a stranger’s earth.



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