19

12 or so, I think I would have been.
My older brother gave me a book:
St.Dominic - This Is Your Life, or
a title of that sort.
It wasn't a big red book. It was slim,
dignified, grey, new, smelled nice.
I only had the odd book back then,
rarely new, never slim.
St. Dominic died when he was nineteen.
The details escape me, but I remember
the number and couldn't see beyond it.

Tomorrow I will have beaten Dominic,
and my self-forecast by forty years.
Another no-no for religion then, not
that another no is needed by now.

The serious question though is why
Belief, Superstition, whatever you may
are stronger than cast-iron galvanized Fact.
Not all the time, of course, but in
kitchens, bedrooms, gardens, building-sites,
factories, and assorted such places.

Put another log on that fire, George.
Enough feckin' facts for tonight.
Who's got a song or a story, for Chris' sake,
get that dog away from the door.