I’M NOT GOING TO SIGN HIS BIRTHDAY CARD (for John Osborne)

you’re supposed to be good with words, Tony tells me,

write something, write something so good it will make him stay,

and Tony is swallowing his tears, pushing a black gel pen

in my hand, what good are all those books of yours if you can’t,

and I want to tell Tony to back off,

I’ve only worked here for a few months,

I only invited the team to that open mic at the Crown

because I need friends in Norwich, and I don’t know

what my job really is, what is an analyst, I am just

forwarding emails and reading r/analysis,

but he is standing over my desk and his face is a dishcloth,

and I can hear Kanye from the earbuds around his neck,

and what if I DID have all that power, so I scribble

something down and Tony wanders away, and I

check my password on the post-it and log in