Five Stars

Years of working weekends,

cashing in his holidays, dossing

in loveless digs beside arterial roads

or in vans to pocket his expenses.


He’d earned it, kept on how

soon he’d be in Lido di Jesolo,

a linen suit for evenings;

us lot wouldn’t exist.


Back three days later,

rubbing down skirting boards

before we arrived. Couldn’t stand it:

the kids, the heat, the wife.