
giving up the ghost






ghosts CAN be straight
they just like you to wait
and struggle to figure out
just what the hell it is they’re banging on about
they seem to get a buzz
from moonlit rustling in spooky shrubs
walking through walls in empty pubs
irritating jump scares face to face
creeping & sneaking about the place
honestly – it’s obscene
they’re totally gabby but basically mean
SO anti-social, slamming doors
sending weird texts by ouija board
ghosts are just things
no more, no less
like this waste basket
that hat
ghosts exist
in what scientists flippantly call
a temporal time salad
being a half second to the side
of wherever the hell it is
you think you are
ghosts wear ghost clothes
joggers, trainers, stuff like that
sometimes a bag
scientists have yet to decide
what the implications are
for fabric technology more generally
you know that feeling when you walk upstairs to fetch something important, but then stand at the top of the stairs clutching the handrail, because you’ve forgotten what it was?
your glasses?
a book?
the dog?
I mean – WHAT?
ghosts feel like that all the time
everyone who has ever died is now a ghost
everyone who is yet to be born
are what scientists term
pre-ghost
in many ways
the world is more ghost
than living
(and don’t get me started on pets)
ghosts have made their presence felt
throughout history
except for a brief period in the 1960s
when they struck
for better conditions
arguing with a ghost
is a fool’s errand
they use 100 percent pure ghost logic
which is immediate
transparent
omni-directional
and fucking annoying

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