A Poem by Mat Riches

The Summer Job

This was my chance to earn enough money
to leave and be the first of us
with a degree of book learning. You said

I’d only get a wake-up call the once.
After this, there were no visible signs
of favouritism, apart from the lifts

in the morning. Your red flask rolled about
next to our bag of cling-filmed sandwiches,
while Wogan chatted on the radio.

For the long twelve minutes to the workshop,
I watched you change from being Dad
to the Guv’nor at the last left turn.

Mat Riches has appeared in a number of journals and magazines, most recently New Statesman, Wild Court, The High Window, The Friday Poem, and Finished Creatures. He has a pamphlet due out from Red Squirrel Press in 2023. He’s on Twitter as @matriches and blogs at Wear The Fox Hat.