“Have faith,” he said, “Trust the process-
have you ever done it afore?”
I shook my head and he pointed at a hole
like a mouse-hole or the entrance wound
of an apple grub. “See yon? Ever wondered
how they sail the ship into the bottle?”
I shook my head – “Never mind,” he said.
I was dressed in green and red felt
with an oversized belt – my hat
like something a shoe-making elf
in a Ladybird book might place on their head,
it had a thin elastic chin cutting strap.
He was fixing me into a pair of boots –
like skiing boots, “The soles of these – magnetized –
they’ll glue you to the ground – solid,” – then
he batted them, as if batting them made it true-
“So when you’re upside down – don’t worry.
Your heart will drop to your mouth lad –
enjoy it, it’s like a roller coaster, only better.
Then when you roll back round you’ll be
blabbered with snow – if you can remember too –
wave at the people, maybe make a snowball.”
I looked at the gingerbread house –
the glass cork, the bung hole and wondered
at it’s size and scale and took a deep breath.