Father, son.
And Holy Ghost.
That’s the best bit: the ghost.
The other two I can take or leave,
but the ghost is a man in the know.
Cool, hip.

The proof is..
nobody really knows what he does,
though he seems to be so well connected.
Sure, the father is a big noise in the city
and you see the son hanging around.
But the ghost goes to all the really good parties
that you are not invited to.
If you are there, he isn’t. He’s gone Uptown.

I say “he”, but who knows.
The ghost, you suspect, is adventurous in sex;
in a discreet way. Supermodels, probably.
And certainly he has one of those nice flats
near the park in Edinburgh.

But sometimes –
I think I detect a certain smugness.
Just a little at the corner of his mouth;
as if he inherited 5 million pounds
through an accounting error.
He knows, but he’s not telling.
As if he knows that there shouldn’t
really have been a third share.

Sure, the son says that money isn’t everything
He heard it from his dad.
But the ghost is a bit more realistic.
He has nice suits.
Your girlfriend says that she doesn’t fancy him at all.
You know she does.




William Antcliff rarely leaves the Isle of Mull. Unlike his poems, which have appeared in many anthologies and magazines.

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