window dressing

I kinda got used to seeing it
a scene in a cottage window in the village as I was leaving it
every day
in the morning about 7 o’clock I’d say
an annoying toy display
Buzz Lightyear, Woody and T-Rex
arranged in the window for hilarious effect
a cute tableaux
hanging upside down by their toes
or swinging from mistletoe
at Christmas
for instance
chicks at Easter, that kinda business
Buzz wearing Woody’s hat
T-Rex apparently mad for that
the three of ‘em swinging in a precarious line
from the white pull cord of the window blind
and so on
and on
and on

I mean – you wouldn’t think there was THAT much to go on
but the window dresser went at it with brio
rearranging their Pixar trio
every day a different show
of frozen poses in a village window
but I dunno

you see – the more
I swore
to ignore it
the more
I saw
I couldn’t avoid it
I was compelled to look
morbidly hooked
drawn to see what new liberties they took

it’s odd how all these traditions start
one day you’re balancing toys for a laugh
the next you’re obliged ad nauseam
to manipulate dolls for applauseam

and so it went on for a couple of years
until the Pixar troupe disappeared
replaced by a massive, expressionless bear
that filled the window with its constipated stare

it was quite a blow to see it
I couldn’t believe it
they must’ve suffered psychic trauma
to suddenly turn to THAT performer

but the next day even the bear was scrapped
the window covered in frosty wrap

I don’t know what this says about performance
it’s probably not of any importance
puppets come, puppets go
commuters too and I should know


I can only imagine
you’re in cardiac arrest
and haven’t got five minutes
to wait for an ambulance
you’re probably giving
yourself CPR right now
bobbing up and down
on the steering wheel
in time to Jon Bon Jovi
Livin’ on a Prayer
as you drive yourself
to A&E

either that, or you’re trying
to outrun that white
van of assassins I can see
rampaging on your tail
I’m sure one of them’ll
be leaning out the window
sometime soon
a plumber with an RPG

it makes me nostalgic
for a simpler time I never knew
thousands of years ago
no cars, no commute
just sabre-tooth cats,
infection, hard grains
and long hours
watching from the mouth
of a cave we gazumped
from a great bear
(big, I mean, not wonderful)
I can totally imagine it
you, me, the van men
sitting down to knap flints
round a fire
at the end of another
busy day surviving
but then – wait.
I bet you’d all be head down
working as fast as you could
flakes flying left and right
I’d probably have to move aside
flashing you a wild
backwards look
beneath all that hair
bastards (neolithic equiv)
what’s the rush