#2,640 Wireless Nights

Hancock on catch up –
not film –
a dead cast now &
laughs died out –
his doleful
eyes –
young men looked so
old then –
black & white film
days –
all post-war glitching
& disappointment in scripts
hammered at by smoke-eye
writers –
laughter’s return in
austere days –
wireless song
theirs to hum –
I had turned
a dial on our Pye radio from
Prague to Paris –
travelling in
Europe –
me a kid at
that fine art of listening-in &
tuning –
a valve-warm night
forty-odd long years before