the king my father

Dad appeared again last night
‘Alright?’
he said
waving goofily from the bottom of the bed
I sat up
drank a cup
of water straight off
‘Take the weight off’
I said
patting the bed
Dad shrugged the hood off his head
then sat
fussily folding his hands in his lap
‘So!
Whaddya know?’
‘Not much.’
‘Hey – I appreciate you keeping in touch
what with being dead n’all
I didn’t put money on that at all’
‘Me either’ he said
‘I wanted a nice long lie-in instead
but them’s the breaks I guess
doomed forever more or less
to walk the earth in fancy dress…’

I don’t know if this is particularly relevant
but even though Dad was basically a skeletant
I knew at once it was really him
just quite a bit slimmer
the same ol’ glimmer
playing round his sockets
a packet of wine gums poking out his pocket

‘How d’you eat those things with your jaw?
You’d have to think it defies all laws
Wouldn’t they just fall straight on the floor?’
‘Uh-huh’ he said, waggling his mandible
‘Your concerns are understandable
But – see – these are Time Gums
Specially confected for spectral tongues
You feel like you’re chewing
but there’s nothing much doing
The flavours are crude
Your teeth come unscrewed
and the goddamn packet’s endlessly renewed
but it helps you concentrate
which is really quite helpful for a guy in my state
soo….’

He sighed
flexed his glowing phalanges wide
then delicately hooked my curtains aside
and for the longest while we stared outside
the moon shining silvery, round and sweet
‘Neat’
he said
‘And great you get this straight from your bed’

‘Dad?’
I said
sitting more upright on the bed
‘Tell me what it’s like being dead’

He turned his sockets sadly on me
and we held that connection wordlessly
until eventually
he yawned
and said ‘Well – it’s just like the time before you were born
THAT but without the cord n’stuff
I could tell you more but that’s enough
My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself
yaddah yaddah something else’

I gave him one of my probing looks
How’d he know Shakespeare when he never read books?

‘So what are you saying? Hell is REAL?
None of this sounds ideal
You’re making me queasy
sulphurous & tormenting sounds a bit sleazy’

‘Don’t take it literally
Jimmy’
he said
suddenly leaping up off the bed
his black cloak cracking
snapping and flapping
like some dreadful, stressful, dad-sized bat
engaged in supernatural combat
screaming and crying
finally raising his arms and flying
straight through the ceiling without even trying
pointy and quick
like he only lacked a stick
to qualify as a rocket
the Time Gums falling out of his pocket

‘Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!’
I said after I’d managed to calm myself down a bit
and got up to disarm
the dreadful clamour from the smoke alarm
then picked up the Time Gums, gave one a chew
because – be honest – wouldn’t you, too?

Brexigone

A Tragedy in Neverending Acts

ACT I
Scene 1

The Terraces in front of The Houses of Parliament.

King SUNAK slides on dressed in a golden cloak and, erm… sliders – hesitates, looks right and left – then moves stage centre, wringing his hands

Suddenly the CHORUS appears, all in blue and white robes & wearing cheap Britannia masks. SUNAK turns round with a start

CHORUS:
Think before you speak O King!
Freight thy words with lead!
Cursed be he who says a thing
about Brexit being dead

SUNAK
No. Absolutely. And what I think
if you give me half a chance
is that Britain is on the brink
of a major economic advance

The CHORUS start hopping around in a clumsy revelry – quite embarrassing – very uncoordinated and unprofessional – masks falling off revealing them to be Russian plutocrats, Oil & Gas executives, International Hedge Fund managers etc.

SUNAK
Jesus Christ this gig is tough
It’s horrible being PM
it wouldn’t be so bad n’stuff
if I didn’t have to deal with them

The Chorus stop dancing, gather themselves, try to look dignified

CHORUS:
Your reign is mortal! Easily nixed!
Prime Ministers cheap and then some
Never forget how our fate was fixed
in a binding referendum

Suddenly there is a clap of thunder, lightning and other cheap effects. TRUTH descends in a wobbly chariot, squashing the CHORUS.

TRUTH:
Your referendum was built on lies!
Remember the Golden Bus?
Why is it really such a surprise
The UK is quite bust!
You took our place in Europe
Destroyed it on a whim!
Tore it all down from the floor up
And threw it in the bin!
Supply chain costs rising higher and higher
Poor environmental protection!
All for a right wing dream of Empire
sold on fake news and deception!

The FURIES rush on – basically the Daily Mail, Sun, Express, Daily Telegraph, GB NEWS, Laurence Fox etc. Everything descends into chaos. SUNAK is thrown in the Thames. The Houses of Parliament catch fire…

CLIMATE CHANGE creeps on, stage left. Watches the fighting, then shrugs and turns to the audience:

CLIMATE CHANGE:
This is peachy! What a breeze!
One day they’ll wake to discover
how I took the planet with absolute ease
while they were busy fighting each other…

boys’ names

I think mum had a faintly
saintly
kinda fetish
‘cos she named her boys with catholic relish
Peter, Michael, Jim?
it’s all a bit old testament & grim
if you ask me
but I was the last
so at least there weren’t any past me
no John or Matthew
no Luke or Patrick
just us three the saintly hat trick

Before I lay me down to sleep, I give my soul to Christ to keep. Four corners to my bed, Three angels there aspread. I don’t know where the fourth one went. Maybe it’s God’s punishment.

so it’s just Jim
that’s it, it’s me, c’est lui, I’m him
or Jimmy
or Jimbo
if you think I’m a clown in a toyshop window
or Jamie
maybe
or god help me James
if I work in the city – y’ah? – with portfolios to maintain
or I’m in trouble – again
in which case it’s definitely James
basically Jim in the pub
James in furs and mayoral chains

because it’s strange
how names
can change
a man
I might be good at DIY if I was a Dan
I could probably play the klavier
if I was a Xavier
and if I was a Tom
I’d be into sub dom
and so on

my point is
when our parents anoint us
with a name
our lives are never quite the same
the only way round it
was if they disallowed it
and every baby got a barcode on their shoulder
and named themselves when they got older

because once you’re a Jack
there’s no going back

it’s a problem, this name-thing
every boy’s called the same thing
go to any big gathering
like a gig or a gym
and it’s really quite staggering
how many are called Jim
or Dave. or Richard. or John.
there’s a hard core of twenty – shall I go on?

but anyway – if you forget the name of a boy
do what our mum did and just say ‘Oi’

a belief in dog

I believe in dog
primarily because
dog does as dog should
dog sniffs around the neighbourhood
and smells that it is good

in the beginning
was the word
and the word was dog
and lo He became soggy
because the woods were quite boggy
after the mighty torrent
and verily wilt He need a good clean-up I warrant

dog the lather
dog the suds
dog the toasty towelling
dog the growling
with pleasure
(verily doth he appreciate being dry without measure)

ah dogs

from St Stanley’s Epistles to the Bristles:
‘and we didst go for a walk into the woods
and the walk was wet but quite springlike and good
and we didst meet upon the path a terrier called Reggie
and my Owner didst chat unto Reggie’s owner
and didst make this joke:

‘Verily if thou hast a dog called Reggie
then must thou get thyself another dog
and this other dog shalt thou name Ronnie’
and Reggie’s owner did laugh most politely
and move to the side of the path ever so slightly
and the walk didst continue
and the world was made anew
with a tripe stick treat for me to chew’

transubstanliation

I’m turning into Stanley
he’s morphing into me
I write in my blog
how my mind is a fog
how I’m sure we’re becoming one big dog
who snoozes
when he chooses
and generally confuses
the basket on the floor for the sofa he uses
the whole thing such a buzz
the dog that is, the man that was

now it’s Stanley going to work, not me
managing quite effectively
only struggling because
he needs hands not claws
to neatly unwrap a pack of gauze
and grizzles a bunch
and wolfs his lunch
in a messy old crunch
and his deadly farts pack quite a punch
but still – I’m just a beginner
humans are ace but dogs are a winner

appointment in albuquerque

and I met with DEATH on Tinder
and DEATH seemed very surprised
but I’m quite the olympic sprinter
dropped the phone and ran outside

I waved down a passing Uber
screamed Take me outta this place!
so she did a cool manoeuvre
and drove me outta state

I bailed in Albuquerque
gave her a million bucks
she said I was nice but quirky
and wished me all the lucks

I went to a 7-Eleven
to get myself a Sprite
imagine my expression
when DEATH said Hey! Alright?

I THOUGHT that was you on the app!
your profile said Trenton, New Jersey
which confused me all to crap
‘cos I had you for Albuquerque

amazing tails

I can’t wait to tell you all about
the amazing thing I just found out
(quite accidentally)
Stanley isn’t Stanley
not a rescue lurcher but apparently
a traveller from the pet planet Wetnosa
and the reason he spends so much time on the sofa
is he’s busy transmitting secret data
to the bassets and beagles back home in the crater
the great big basket operations centre
topped by a quivering, bone-shaped antenna
receiving all the growls and barks
and collating them into complex charts
looked over by a chihuahua, completely hairless
who acts intrigued but really couldn’t care less

status update XL

I’m free as a fart in the late cretaceous / huge and horny and happily herbaceous / munching in swamps that are shit but spacious / but dearie lord and goodness gracious / the atmosphere is quite outrageous / implausibly clawsy and dentally tenacious / why is everything so damned predacious?

I’m a pirate waving his cutlass har-haaar / as he crashes into a seaside bar / demanding to know where the diamonds are / but no-one seems to give a shit / it’s out of season, they’re out of it / a little disappointing I must admit / mate! stow yer noise and quit / yawns the barman, wiping the bar a bit / costume’s great – love the stitchin’ / the curly beard is proper bitchin’ / if you’re lookin’ for work we’re short in the kitchen

I’m a dog on lead, a cat on sax / blasting through the latest tracks / from our platinum album Petallax / rider of bourbon and salty snacks / it’s all good, man, jes’ relax! / we’ll soothe your ears if you scratch our backs

I’m noah’s ark sailing toward / whatever was left when the waters roared / a domestic crew of animals on board / a mouse with a mop, a lion with an ironing board

I’m Gary Cooper in a bar with chaps / snarling hey! this party slaps

I’m a wealthy clown with a squirty cigar / spinning tie and comedy car / rubber teeth and hair bizarre / who goes into politics and gets quite far / as the party-loving ethics tzar

I’m Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the aneurysm / causing another family schism / the Reverend Plum / acting dumb / thy kingdom come, thy will be done / the old soak’s dead let’s have some fun

I’m a hokey poem about faith n’devotion / stuffed in a bottle and tossed in the ocean