Tony

It was a Physics Society party.

I’d been to many 

and didn’t like them much.

Physics students were creeps.

Well, they were generally creeps,

but Tony was different,

he thought they were creeps as well,

even though he was one of them.

He was a miner’s son from North Yorkshire.

He thought the rest were upper class,

including me it seemed.

‘What did your father do?,’ he asked.

It seemed weird to say ‘Tram Driver’

when the trams were so long gone

and saying he was dead didn’t satisfy him,

so, I opted for the marriage certificate occupation.

‘Garage Mechanic, that’s not bad’, he said.

I didn’t share his experiences of class and entitlement,

the students in my course were mainly working class

Grammar School products, like Tony, like me,

so I thought he had an unreasonable chip on his shoulder 

and we had nothing in common.

Now I understand him better

and wish I’d talked longer 

and known him more.

I think we could have been friends.

https://poetsonline.org/archive/arch_party.html