Howl for the Elderly (after Ginsberg)

I saw the clearest minds and the strongest bodies of my childhood brought to low greyness by years that settled like dusty crows on their shoulders

Those who stood solid as beech trees we could climb, and smaller like L.E.F. the dedicated in this poem

Who shocked by telling me to fuck off when I offered to pay for coffee at Manchester Airport

Who listened to Demis Roussos singing Forever and Ever on repeat and watched Yul Brynner in The King and I and fancied both of them

Who blu-tacked children’s paintings on the wall beside the fridge and encouraged the painting of more

Who played charity football in red knickerbockers and tried to learn Urdu but never got past Aap ka nam kia hai?

Who were the model of what beauty looked like, and that beauty had skin the colour of milky coffee and black freckles

Who taught themselves to play keyboards because their pianist was crap and made their songs sound bad

Who I hear daily in my own voice, and who called the dog the Hound of the Bastardvilles

Who stole the top from the rice pudding and spoke in perfect bilingual dialect

Who threw a sherry bottle at John but missed leaving a crescent moon in the anaglypta chimney breast that he refused to fill

Who was and used to be and used to be and used to be and used to be

Who got drunk and poured boiling water on the floor narrowly missing his stockinged feet as well as the tea cup

Who could make anything out of wood as long as it didn’t have to look pretty and only used two screws to attach hinges and door handles

Who saw teddy boys, mods and rockers, glam rock glitterers, punks and new romantics and never became any one of them but loved to look at Whitby goths

Who might or might not have had affairs or wild swinger nights or drunken sexual adventures but would never admit anything beyond the vaguest hints

Who were locked up in Strangeways
Who were prison guards in Strangeways

Who ate without money, who clothed without money, who provided without money, who denied without money

Who met siblings and siblings and siblings and cousins and cousins at gatherings for weddings, christenings and funerals, and funerals became more common

Whose Austin Mini burned on Eton Hill Road

Who loved the poems of Robert Burns
Who couldn’t understand the poems of Robert Burns and preferred Star Trek and Space Precinct

I won’t bump into you outside WH Smith or spot you on the Metrolink getting off at Market Street because your legs will no longer carry you that far

I will see you in your flat in your chair where you will sit in your chair and eat in your chair and speak in your chair and breath in your chair and watch Invasion of the Body Snatchers in your chair and sleep in your chair and be fearful and smaller than ever in your chair

I will watch the dusty crows gather on your shoulders and your hands and your words and know that I can’t scare them away

December 2024

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Phone

Phone (A trio of Triolets)   I wanted to tell you the lights had changed But you were staring down at your phone I wanted to tell you how much we’ve aged I wanted to tell you the lights had changed And how an oak tree’s leaves were arranged And how we are never, truly, alone I wanted to tell you the lights had changed But you were staring down at your phone When you were staring down at your phone What was it, that you had seen? Was it a place that felt like home When you were staring down at your phone? And was it better than standing alone Waiting for the lights to turn green? When you were staring down at your phone What was it, that you had seen? So, what was it that you had seen When I wanted to tell you the lights had changed? Did you learn with joy why leaves are green? What was it, that you had seen? And maybe you felt how connected we’d been And laughed inside at how much we’ve all aged What was it, that you had seen When I wanted to tell you the...
Read more

Start Again

Start Again I want to start it all again And not be reminded every day Of somebody who has died I want to wake up not remembering Who crocheted our blankets And why there’s a sheet under the sofa cushions I want to go shopping and recognise nobody And not remember whose milk I used to buy And who enjoyed cheap QC sherry I want to forget how to say ‘used to’ And ‘was’ and ‘did’, and instead remember ‘Will be’ and ‘is’ I want to discover new towns, climb hills And forget that I no longer need to remember Who might like to hear about them I want to cross bridges and turn corners That I’ve never turned before This time, unaccompanied by ghosts I want my tears to come by choice Like knick-knacks and gewgaws, locked in a box Opened only when I feel like it I want to fly into old age on wings of amnesia Caring only for what lies ahead Rusty chains broken around my skinny ankles I want to start again, and again, and again And not be reminded, every damnable day...
Read more

Grammys 2025

Grammys 2025 (a trio of triolets) We know you, Kanye West And your fragile, macho type Sticking out your chin and your chest We know you, Kanye West   Proud of your manipulating best Believing every word of your own hype We know you, Kanye West And your fragile, macho type We know you, Bianca Censori And the deadness behind your eyes We know you’ll be afraid of reaching forty We know you, Bianca Censori Desperate to hold on to security You’ll dive right into the gaslighting lies We know you, Bianca Censori And the deadness behind your eyes We know you, soulless Hollywood And your paparazzi prurience Holding only money as the highest good We know you, soulless Hollywood That nothing sells better than tits and blood Throwing artists on the fire at the very first chance We know you, soulless Hollywood And your paparazzi prurience   February 2025
Read more