The X Factor

Even with the coal fire lit up,
hissing a little with smoke and flame,
the tiles near the mantle-piece
were cool for hand or forehead.

The plain cut-wool rug was an island
in the sea of lino. The little poker
with the sharpish tip - dig it in
a steaming coal vein - a satisfy jet,
bright but quickly dead.

Over at the dining table - well, only
for Christmas and special occasions,
- my brother and the Da acted out
their respective parts. Tonight we have

The Coalfield of England. Northumberland
anddurham was my favourite, all one word
of course. And Yorkshire. And Kent, being
the Garden of England was green.

But the high drama was when trains
puffed along the track, one just seven
miles faster than the other and how long
would it take the bath to fill when

the tap was doing so many gallons
and the drain was emptying pints.
All of this, a little pause for effect,
and then the whole point of the exercise:

Let x equal the answer! Oh occasionally
a or b acted as understudies, or y placed
a supporting role. But x was your real
man, Host, Saviour and slicker than
the Holy Ghost.

So let x equal the almighty
or we'll be sitting round for infinity
and the fire will have long gone out.