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This is inspired by my earliest memory of a public event, which happened when I was four years old. My family were on a holiday in Cornwall. But whenever I think of it, some slight detail is different, and as time passes it feels more and more that my memory is actually memories of memories.

Memory

Screen_shot_2017-12-05_at_08.50.24by Patrick Howse18 Dec 2013

The stuffy smell of car
And my travel sickness
Is parked outside a pub -
Or perhaps it's a shop -

While Mum and Dad
Buy ginger beer -
Or maybe it's pasties -
To bring out to us.

The radio, left on
For music, blurts out
Robert Kennedy's
Been shot in the head.

Whenever that day
Is conjured up,
I load it down
With a new layer.

I see my eldest sister
Cry by the open window
To the murmur of
The distant roar of

Surf, and Dionne Warwick
Asks the way to San Jose.
Though sometimes
I'm sure that was earlier.