You could never replace the crackle

that came armed with a moment

of silence in the dead of night

or the giant Everyready PP9 battery

that would weigh your father’s pocket

down on one side and made him

appear as if he was stooping over

at the tender age of thirty-five

and which would feel like you

were cradling gold up the stairs

to put in the radio,

your companion at night

when darkness fell

but sleep was but a tiresome illusion.