In a city where the stars were out of sight
they named streets after astronomers,
but we were telescoped into a world of fumes
and sirens, burned out cars, abandoned mattresses.

In seven years there were four murders in this road.
The businessman bulleted in his restaurant; the dealer
bludgeoned in an upstairs flat; a man that no-one knew;
and a woman, found face down in a sluice.

But I remember Tony from Dominica, whose laugh
exploded like a Caribbean sun; lonely Krish,
who cooked the best potato curry in the world;
and you, beaming, when you first rode your purple bike.

Julian Dobson lives in Sheffield, home of the famous Henderson’s Relish. His poems have appeared in publications including Brittle Star, The Interpreters’ House, Acumen, and on a bus in Guernsey. More of his work is here.