the chain
father and son
ghost dad
a jog on the battlements
Dad’s hobby saw
why
so why did Jesus cry out on the cross?
was he lost?
double-crossed?
finally failed
by the father he’d trailed
as the one true god who always prevail’d?
the beard in the sky
the good time guy
the holy moly hero on high
CEO
of everything below
the man who made everything – yea – even the iron
they forged into nails to crucify ‘im
jeez – thanks dad
my bad
I thought for a second you were on my side
I’d give you the finger but my hands are tied
the promotion
dad appeared again last night
(I know, what are the chances, right?
all those years so buttoned up;
now he’s dead he won’t shut up)
this time was different
this time he was magnificent
in a tailored suit and fedora hat
a silver-topped cane and oxford spats
whaaaaat? I said
sitting up in bed
Alright, son? said dad
politely tipping the brim of his hat
grinning broadly from here to here
or those hollows where he once had ears
son? he said, looking around
then hanging his hat with my dressing gown
this is the last time I’ll be able to visit
though I hope you know I’m with you in spirit
the heavenly council have met and voted
and hey presto I’ve been promoted
that’s good – I think – I said, confused
unsure about the terms he used
promoted? really? from what to what?
hopefully not to anywhere hot…
nothing like that, he said; don’t worry
you shouldn’t think of death so terminally
it’s more a progression of altered states
and the clothes fit better and you don’t pay rates
all you gotta do is keep your nose clean
(which I have to admit is a tricky routine)
and eventually you get your reward
and a clothing allowance from the lord
so what are your duties? I hope it’s okay
you look a bit gangstery today
personal preference; I like to be sharp
though I wouldn’t go quite as far as a harp
my job description’s pretty whack
I don’t do much and they pay me a stack
all I do is witness god’s wonders
basically there to make up numbers
all things considered it’s easy work
and pretty good going for a printer’s clerk
what wonders? I said, the planet’s a mess
well let’s just say it’s a work in progress
things have always been in a state
but I didn’t come here for religious debate
it’s just that after a period of reflection
I regret not showing you more affection
it wasn’t that I didn’t feel it
it’s just I was brought up to conceal it
so – that’s it – that’s all I wanted you to know
and he reached for his hat and turned to go
and stood forlornly on the rug
so I jumped out of bed and gave him a hug
(which felt a bit awkward, but .. you know
as I gazed up into his empty sockets
and he took his phalanges out of his pockets
and returned the squeeze, and we stayed there a while
till he vanished in characteristic style
and I said to the air I knew that of course
now rest in peace you funny old corpse
he knew all along
I promise
I’m being honest
when I say it threw me
as a cold wind suddenly blew right through me
the night Dad came back
I mean
he seemed
a bit quieter
like a ghostly proprietor
drifting in the shop to offer help
reaching stuff from the tallest shelf
I can tell
you’re not well, Jim
he said, as I watched him
drift through the bedroom door
a femur’s length above the floor
that’s rich
coming from the undead
I said
bravely
have you looked in the mirror lately?
he sighed
did an eerie, weary, dead dad kinda glide
over to the bottom of my bed
sat down (sort of) and shook his head
tell me if I’m out on a limb
but drop the pretence and be honest, Jim
I can tell when something’s not quite right
call it the gift of eternal sight
well okay dad, it’s true
I was never any good at lying to you
like that time when
I was nine or ten
and I snuck out
to edge the lawn
like I’d watched you do since I was born
in my defence
it was meant
to be helpful
but I wasn’t successful
it was horribly stressful
the edges were crap
may as well have been hacked
by a gardening psycho with a fireman’s axe
so I put the spade back
hurried inside
and when you finally arrived
home from work
you went berserk
stormed in the front room
where my brothers and me
were watching TV
and you yelled who made that god awful mess
and I kept my head down and I didn’t confess
well – newsflash son
I actually knew it was you all along
you always were a headstrong kid
it was exactly the sort of thing you did
your feckless brothers never touched a spade
so it was pretty obvious it was you I’m afraid
but that’s not why I’ve come back from the grave
he said as he gave
a flickering kinda glower
(understandable, given the hour)
tell me why you feel so lost?
I needs must know at any cost
(weird his speech turned so archaic;
but I suppose when you’re dead you’re beyond prosaic)
I don’t know, Dad
it’s sometimes really bad
and I wonder if maybe I was born
with an invisible caul that never got torn
doomed to live in a membranous fug
something like that, I said, and shrugged
Jim! Is that an extended metaphor?
if it is I have to give you credit for
being so cute & melodramatic
but as life skills go it’s problematic
you always did like to dress yourself
in words that dented your mental health
so what the hell do I do I said
throwing myself helplessly back on the bed
he drifted round the room a while
then settled back down with a weary smile
folding his bony hands in his lap
tossing back the hood on his demonic wrap
I’m sorry we never seriously chatted
before my atoms got royally scattered
all I can say in my defence
is MY dad was bad in every sense
stayed out drunk most of the night
coming back angry and up for a fight
and I know grandad was just as shite
so it got passed down as a kinda blight
no excuse but maybe explains
the dodgy links in the family chain
but it doesn’t have to be your inheritance
you have the tools and the competence
to forge yourself a better life
and that’s my message here tonight
he spoke like a spectral jiminy cricket
all he needed was a brolly and a ticket
to the transformation of the long-nosed puppet
to a real-life dancing boy or summat
(quite how many metaphors can you stick
in a poem – apparently five or six)
the universe is basically huge
cold as a wet weekend in Bruges
so it’s up to you to bring some heat
and find the love in those Belgian streets
I’ve lost where I’m going with that one, okay?
but I think you know what I’m trying to say
embrace your darkness! feel the burn!
find out what there is to learn
from the pain you sometimes feel in your heart
and greet each dawn as another fresh start
there’s nothing more fucked up than families
he sighed, patting my head with his white phalanges
then suddenly he straightened and flapped his cape
his sockets flamed and his jawbone gaped
‘I’m sorry to say, Jim, that’s really that
I’ve really enjoyed our spectral chat
but I’m off to explore Messier 83
a distant spiral galaxy
sounds nice in the brochure, but hey – we’ll see…’
with that he shot straight up through the ceiling
and left me with an awkward feeling
Dad never read a book, so honestly?
how did he come to learn astronomy?
ghost therapy
I dreamt
I was in hospital, sent
to see a patient
admitted that evening
a screaming
werewolf
scared of
needles
I said it was certainly the lesser of two evils
because it’s either a jab or a silver bullet
so he grabbed the emergency cord to pull it…
but then I opened my eyes
and to my surprise
saw my dead dad
ludicrously clad
in the big black cloak he always had
stagily wreathed in thick grey smoke
waving with boney bonhomie
from the foot of the bed in front of me
Alright son? he said
nodding his head
grinning so broadly
I was inordinately
worried his lower jaw
would pop right out on the bedroom floor
‘We’ve got to stop meeting like this!
but it’s another full moon so I couldn’t resist…’
I sat up
plumped the pillows and backed up
as he worked his cloak and flapped up
‘DAD!’ I said
as he hovered next to the bed
‘I thought when you were dead
schtum – that was it
not all this ghostly shemozzle instead’
‘I know!’ he grinned
‘but turns out when the ol’ body’s binned
the essence carries on regardless
don’t be so heartless
you can hardly
blame me
anyway I’m still a trainee.’
‘It’s been nineteen years!’ I said
‘That’s nothing when you’re dead,’
he shrugged
‘But hey – it’s hard for me to judge’
I sighed
smoothed the duvet over my thighs
‘Sorry I was snippy
but it’s just a bit tricky
when you were alive you were so
I don’t know
buttoned up?
now you’re dead there’s no shutting you up.’
‘It’s true’ he said
‘I never felt so alive now I’m dead
but you see
the family meant a lot to me
I’m sorry I didn’t get to say how I really felt
but I guess that’s the hand your ol’man was dealt
my dad was a drunk who gave us the belt
so we grew up quiet and self-contained
which maybe explains
the strange restraint
but who knows? a psychotherapist I ain’t’
We chatted awhile about this and that
metaphysics; whether there are cats
and dogs
in the afterlife – or not;
what he thought about climate change;
whether he could arrange
to smuggle me over
so I could look around and get some closure
‘It’s not me it’s the paperwork,’ he said
‘It’s more straightforward when you’re actually dead.’
Just then we heard
a chorus of birds
raucously squawking just outside
a certain sign that dawn had arrived
and I reached out and shook his metacarpals
cold as a hand of wire-strung marbles
and despite all the smoke
the skeleton chic and the bullshit cloak
I have to admit I felt quite choked
when he finally twirled and quickly left
unexpectedly just as bereft
as nineteen years ago this June
when they switched him off in ITU
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?
jim clayton 