Stanley’s posture
on the sofa
is that of the highly qualified loafer
head on the arm rest
nose due West
while the rest
of him points East
because this particular beast
will never knowingly be misaligned
no matter how many times
he naps and snoozes
somehow he never loses
his sense of direction
his nose to the West without exception
holding his dreamy attitude
maintaining cruising altitude
Sometimes when I’m arriving / or leaving / or deciding it’s high time I stopped / and dropped / all the buying and complying / all the dealing and denying / the blind believing / like sometimes when I’m driving / somewhere nice / or not / somewhere cold / or hot / listening to podcasts / forecasts / browsing through broadcast whatnots / the latest schemes / dietary regimes / ponzi queens / killer kitten memes / diana ross and the supremes / political extremes / bin Salman with a book out / on how to plan the perfect Turkish cookout / Cameron with his crook out / in his sheikhy shepherd hut on the lookout / while Johnson jokes from the downing street dugout / that’s papered throughout / with the pages of the standards handbook he’s torn out / and on daytime TV / a deputation from the Chinese embassy / interviews photogenically / on the inherent harmony / of Feng Shui for Peng Shuai / and I wonder whether it will rain again today / and flood / and sweep me away in a wave of mud / and whether I look good in this hood / or whether I should / just accept my age / gracefully / and wander off tastefully / and lose myself in what I did or didn’t do yesterday / and once again I forget what it’s all about / because even though I’ve tried and tried to figure it out / once again I’m circling the roundabout / gripping the steering wheel wracked with doubt
The bible has no date for Jesus’ nativity
but given all the shepherds in the general vicinity
winter was likely much too soon
and they cut the cord in May or June
So how did we arrive
at December 25?
Well – in 312 Constantine seized the eagle
and the next year made Christianity legal
the Romans used to celebrate Saturnalia
with a lot of proto-christmas paraphernalia
which was all to do with the winter solstice
a pagan occasion where everyone got pissed
because I hardly think you need me to say
you REALLY need a party on the shortest day
and although Constantine was apparently Christian
it didn’t hurt his political position
to consolidate all the pagan myths
into one big Christmas shopping list
So now when you’re in the supermarket
after queuing in the car for an hour to park it
pushing your trolley round the crowded aisles
sprouts and turnips in threatening piles
with everyone steadily going insane
Band Aid on the tannoy again
you’ll know who to blame
listen & understand! the johnsonator is out there
with its hyperalloy rumpled suit and crazy clown’s hair
I need your clothes, your boots and your funny money
as a standards advisor stubs out his fag on its tummy
part Old Etonian, part after dinner speaker
fully armed fantasist and serial cheater
and it absolutely will not stop
till you let all talk of investigation drop
and it can’t be reasoned or bargained with
although you might possibly be pardoned with
a donation or two to the party coffers
because it’s always open to sensible offers
Stanley’s not 100% dependable
sometimes perfect, sometimes lamentable
looks pretty innocent but we’ve learned to be skeptical
if anything happened I’m sure we’d be liable
having said that, he’s completely fine with Brodie
a stoner dog with a hipster goatee
as happy as a heavy metal roadie
smoking a joint and spooning macaroni
when Stanley and Brodie get together
it’s like a sudden outbreak of sunny weather
the world a different place altogether
horses, dogs, squirrels… whatever
Brodie could stroll through a full-on riot
like it’s nice to be nice man so why not try it
and suddenly the streets would all fall quiet
and the TV reporters would struggle to describe it
he could totally work for the United Dog Nations
sniffing out barking populations
calming volatile situations
wack job sheepdogs, dotty dalmations
and he’d win huge acclaim for his peace campaign
The Nobel Beast Prize, La Croix de Chien
a squeaky bone headdress from the Chief of the Cheyenne
at a ceremony hosted by the actor, Sean Penn
and they’d raise a statue in the market square
and the sunset would sparkle on his curly bronze hair
as the street dogs gathered to read the plaque there:
To Brodie: A Dog Who Dared To Care
I’m Abraham to Isaac / son – this sucks / but God wants you dead so jump up on the truck / and Issac curses & wriggles like fuck / but dad’s quite the knotsman and he’s plum out of luck / and after a while they get to the rock / and Abe produces a shiv from his sock / to go full Sweeney on his son but stops / because God comes rushing in like the TV cops / and says Abe you da best / this was all just a test / there’s a ram to your left / be my guest / so Abraham merks some random sheep / and they both go home but his son can’t sleep
I’m Where’s Wally? / in a giant, non-compliant paint factory / his scarf just a part of the bustling scenery / zero hours health & safety / as he smiles and waves behind some dangerous machinery / when suddenly / a grabber that favours stripes disproportionately / picks him up appallingly / and parcels him up brutally / so NOW Where’s Wally? / THERE he is! – immobilised on a trolley / ten hours and counting in A&E, unfortunately
I’m Besos and Kirk / riding a shiny cock rocket to work / in space no-one can hear you twerk
I’m Jacob Rees-Mogg / that tweedy old dog / Lord Snooty specs and Fauntleroy fizzog / tossing back the chestnuts and eggnog / the naughty nibbles and such / leaning on Little Cratchett’s crutch / whilst he chuckles at the news / about all the food bank queues / while his offspring peruse / the latest share price reviews / but nanny knows what his weaknesses are / she’s waiting patiently out in the car / with a paddle and a bat / and a snug leather hat / nanny knows everything / mogg did a bad thing / he’d better get ready for some punishing
Stanley’s agent pops round to run some scripts
to see what he thinks and if anything sticks
she watches his tail for telltale flicks
first up is an actioner
about a retired hitman pensioner
played by Jason Statham
who has a lot of balls so Stanley can chase ‘em
but a team of geriatric mercenaries
Jason’s Age UK day centre adversaries
cut up rough
with some fancy silenced zimmer frames and stuff
till Stanley finally has enough
and goes full lurcher
in a real bone cruncher…
Stanley whines
the agent says another time
the next one is a romantic comedy
about a hapless, hopeless professor of paleontology
played by Paul Rudd
who’s good with bones but his love life’s a dud
so he gets himself a dog
writes a blog
attracts lots of flirtatious comments and attention
from an anonymous woman who keeps him in suspension
till they meet by chance
at a place you go to dance
with your pets
but they clash and end up crying at the vets
falling in love as Stanley’s leg gets set…
Stanley sighs
the agent says okay guys
‘BARK’ is a sci-fi dystopian thriller
about the resurrected clone of Phyllis Diller
played by Timothée Chalamet
who puts arsenic in the president’s canapé
then goes on the run
with her giant dog, Hun
whose stock-in-trade is a galumphing great bark
that reduces robots to a pile of parts
and who Phyllis rides like a horse into battle
in the final showdown, downtown Seattle
Stanley sits up
the agent zips up
her attache case
an orthodontically dazzling smile on her face
Well that’s great!
she says
I’ll go ahead and talk to Les
executive director
he cut his teeth in the advertising sector
so he runs a pretty tight ship
she shakes my hand with a crushing grip
Pleasure doing business!
she says
then pats Stanley’s head
as he yawns and turns and goes back to bed
I volunteered to go to Mars with Stanley
said goodbye to the rest of the family
jumped in the rocket
plenty of poop bags and treats in my pocket
a coupla good books I’d been meaning to read
a nice warm jacket and Stanley’s training lead
the launch technicians slammed the hatch
lit the match
hurried back
and…BOOMF!
we shot up with an impressive oommph!
pressed back in our seats and then into the roof
when weightlessness kicked in
and we hadn’t strapped ourselves in
nine months later we were still travelling
which I’ll admit was challenging
in what was essentially a studio flat
with a camping cooker that wasn’t all that
an exercise bike to give extra watts
for washing up the plates and pots
but all in all it wasn’t too bad
like the longest lie-in anyone ever had
our noses pressed up at the viewing space
in awe at the vast Netflixlessness of space
but finally
after an ACTUAL eternity
the console lit up mightily
alarm bells sounding
as the shields took a pounding
Stanley put his paws over his ears
as we blasted through the martian atmospheres
glowing like a trash bin
tossed in
a volcano
it was quite a show
although
I was glad when it stopped
and we quietly dropped
the last few feet or so
landing in a cloud of dust and boulders
screwed our helmets onto our shoulders
opened the doors
stepped outside to stretch our paws
Mars!
And it was all ours!
I looked at Stan; he looked at me
in five seconds we’d seen all we needed to see
I dropped some rocks
in a plastic box
Stanley sniffed some grit
(the helmet got in the way a bit)
then we went back to the rocket
I gave him a tripe stick outta my pocket
and we settled down to wait a year
for the mission control all-clear
to press the green button
(I argued the toss but they ended the discussion
without their say-so I couldn’t do nuttin’)
now we make a living on the chat show circuit
we both learned quickly how to work it
saying how Mars was tragic and eerie
and I share my theory
how the planet was really
a big red gumball God couldn’t finish
on the seventh day and all that business
and Stanley has a clothing line
branded t-shirts of his own design
mugs, mouse mats, decals for cars
his face and the words: First Dog on Mars
Agnes is telling me how she fell down the stairs.
She’s sitting on a chair with her legs crooked up. There’s something so slow and deliberate and precise in the way that she describes how she normally negotiates the stairs, which – along with the gestures she makes with her arms, slowly out to the side and back, her long, spindly fingers reaching out to grab imaginary banisters – that makes me think of a sloth. Her words are sloth-like, too. She even blinks slowly. I need to get on and replace the dressing on her leg, but it’s impossible to interrupt her, and besides, I have to admit, I’m a little hypnotised by the monologue.
‘…and so, you see, I have my technique. And my technique is this: I place my left foot on the first stair like SO…. and then I very carefully reach up with my RIGHT hand to grasp the handrail that runs up the RIGHT side. And once I have a FIRM grasp of the handrail with my RIGHT hand, I transfer my weight forwards, and then begin to move my RIGHT foot up to join the LEFT. And then once I have my balance, I very carefully transfer my weight a little forwards again. And then I reach out with my LEFT hand until I have a firm grasp of one of the bannisters on the left. And then I gently pull forwards with THAT hand, and transfer my weight so that I can swing up my RIGHT foot. Now… all this is very well and good. And in this way I manage to make it all the way to the top, where the stairs turn in a little tuck to the LEFT. But the problem at his point, you see, is that the bannister on that corner is much fatter. Do you follow? It’s shaped … like THIS … (and she describes two curves in the air with those weirdly etiolated fingers, like a potter describing the outline of a shapely vase)… and of course, a shape like that is much more difficult to grasp… to get a good PURCHASE on. Normally I can manage it … by reaching a little further forwards… and almost crawling at the critical point… but that PARTICULAR day I’m sorry to say I DIDN’T manage it, and I toppled backwards…. d’you see?…. and I bounced all the way back down again, like a giant tennis ball or something. And I lay in the hall and shouted out for help, but none came. And after a few hours I said to myself… Agnes? It’s up to YOU! And little by little I crawled to the phone. And in THAT way I managed to summon help. And after a while the ambulance people came, with a key they’d fetched from Gerry across the road. And everything was alright in the end, thank goodness. Except this wretched leg, of course, and a little wounded PRIDE…’
She blinks slowly and sadly, and then seems to brighten as she looks up at me again.
‘So NOW!’ she says. ‘Tell me what it is you’ve come to do?’
jim clayton 