On Becoming Gregorz Harluk

On Becoming Gregorz Harluk

Hot chocolate, drinking chocolate
hot chocolate, drinking chocolate
chanted Gregorz, in Russian
from that inner advertising space
reserved for catchy commercials.
It felt good, no question
as my new persona
swept into minus five
icing hair, casting me back.
to those Western Siberian days.
Not sure Wembley was ideal
for new life, but I felt younger,
despite forgetting my DOB.
The expected mug shot, not required,
I could be anyone,
I gleamed with tomorrow’s whirled imagination.
A doll’s nest of new choices, each more exciting
I could do, I could try, I could be, but mainly
this dodgy leisure centre card
would give us an extra squash court
for those tricky nights
when your breath freezes
to the walls.

Jerry Pike