If you ever jumped into the back of a cab
and the driver was charming, with the gift of the gab.
If he was the smartest dressed driver that you’ve ever had,
you jumped in a cab with my Grandad.
His Italian was fluent from his time in the war,
we’d listen to his stories, though we’d heard them before.
From travelling the world, to taking dance bands on tour,
now I just wish I could listen some more.
He’d wrap us up warm to go out in the cold,
and make our friends laugh at the jokes that he told.
Chase our bikes through the park, though he was too old,
he’d buy us ice cream, give a hand we could hold.
I know he’ll be there when I walk down the aisle,
Like he’s always been there since I was a child.
Cigars, whisky, snooker and snoozing a while.
But what I’ll remember most is his smile.
So you want to write?
make sense of this place
create your own space
share the things
that only you’ve seen
use the words
that don’t just mean
you said you would make it
you’d create it
you know what you want
Turns out I’m bigger than I thought I was.
In fact, I’m fucking massive.
And I know I’m really fucking big because
And people only talk about big things.
Like things that change the world.
Like the entirety of the universe.
Like the fact that it’s so fucking infinite you could think about it every day of your life and you still would never have thought enough not even enough to cover this one small space on my computer screen let alone grasp how meaningless it all becomes when you contemplate that
But you can be massive too.
If one single star is so important,
so far away
and we still think about it.
About how incredible it is, how incredible for being so far.
And you’re right here.
Isn’t that just