sunday morning
that most sacred day
our day of rest
new day dawns
the lonely tb
sitting up on his ownsome
reading the comments from yessaday
tb thinks what can i give my flock today
oh i want to spoil you all
pull out my sunday best
eve n aurora get up
“why didnt you wake us up for the meteor shower”
they angrily demand
eve standing there with arms folded like a jilted lover
aurora gets up in my face
“d-a-a-a-d???”
rejecting my explanation that 2 am in the morning
is not a good time for little doodles to be watching
meteors shower…
(besides doesnt the meteor wants some privacy
when it takes the shower…?)
(you might see its asteroids)
anyhow the doodles stomp off back to bed
well n truly pissed off with moi
who just doesnt understand NOTHING sometimes
its funny being this olde, fiendss
i dont feel like i got anymore time behind me
than say, when i was 5 or 10 or 15
it always seemed life stretched back forever
until a kinda blurry barricade that yer memory could not pierce
its sad to think that all the fun we have with baby bumper
she’ll never remember
my mum n dad seemed to have an exciting life before i came along
on certain nights of the year
when all the rellies n english friends ‘d get together
the kids ‘d all petition the grownups for ghost stories
my dad had 2 beauties
which he did complete with sound effects
like doors slowly creaking open
and footsteps down a hall
he swore both the stories were true
and i never knew whether to believe ‘im
there was the one about the 2 friends in the r.a.f.
they were both spitfire pilots
and in love w/ the same engish rose
the lady finally declares her intention to marry one
the other knobbles his rival plane
who goes missing in action
mr nasty bastard marries the girlie after being her consoler
the war ends
but
one year after the war ends….
a spitfire lands on the airstrip
its the guy returning
they rush up to the plane
slide back the cockpit
and …
its a skellington flying the plane!!!!!!!
the other story
was my mumndad
broke down on motorbike
on the moors
dark foggy night
find little hotel unexpectedly
check in
old old couple working there
lovely rooms
next morning
sun shines
find bike
n ride on to worried friends
anxiously waiting
les n joyce where you been last night..?
oh we stopped at a little hotel
hotel?
theres no hotel round here…
but…
sure enuff
they go back to try n find it
but never can….
oohhh i thought that was creepy
anyway
i was thinking about my early life
i wasnt an easy kid to like i guess
i was kinda cheeky in a way which shocked my auntie lou
who was my dads sister, 10 years older
“leslie you should chastise that childe!” i remember she’d say
i used to say i “hated” food n stuff like that
all the rellies seemed vaguely pissed off with me
i guess it was the nascent bohemian
lined up against all them fifties “straights”
there were a few bohos amongst em
my uncle dennis, a cat from bristol
my dads corporal in the marines
he wasnt really my uncle
it was impolite to call adults by their 1st names in those days
everyone was uncle n auntie to me…
anyway dennis always had the latest weirdest stuff n theories
i only realise now what a huge influence he musta weided over me
he came out with the wildest stuff
“a carfull of bloody jehovahs witnesses broke down out the front
they came n asked me if i could get it going..
i told em ask sodding jehovah to fix yer bloody car!”
i mean ididnt hear a lotta that kinda stuff in those days
he always had the latest beatles record
n he took me n my dad step by step thru the paul is dead scam
playing the records backwards n everything
he had a spare room upstairs where i sometimes found myself
there was the first playboys i ever saw
back in like 1961 -2
man
oh god i can still see it now
i mean
i couldnt believe it…..
i still cant….
and not only that
but a couple of years later
although it was totally banned in australia
a copy of lady chatterlys lover
i mean to a 10 year old
theres some sizzling erotica in that book
jesus christ it put some ideas in my head
and still sometimes
if im in a bookshop
i’ll go n read those pages…
go lady chat!!!!
is that why ploogy became a gardener in the end?
after that i become a bit of an avid young reader of erotica
consuming sexus n tropic of cancer by henry miller
the story of o
the story of the eye
anais nins delta of venus n little birds
the kama sutra n the perfumed garden
wherein i dutifully learned of the yoni n lingam
i certainly had all the theory down early, you could say..
not that this has much to do with anything
by the way
seems ive left uncle dennis off in the distance
such is my rambling restless mind…
dennis had a dark side too
he told me his mother used to lock him in the cupboard
when he played up
he was a vehement atheist and he fuckin’ blasphemed
in front of all the old ducks
one imagines he had been quite a soldier during the war
my dad n he idolised each other
he was there the day my dad suddenly died…just like that
after all the stuff thrown at em during the war
his old mate just fell off a ladder while painting a wall
and he was gone
the humour, the memories
our kind old dad
extinguished like a flame
dead men dont know theyre dead said dennis
in his bristol accent
and somehow i took some comfort
in that bleak consolation
that day was thirty years ago in early dec
my mum had to sell the little house my dad just bought
(thats why he was painting it)
to pay “death duties”
so theres a little irony for ya
he worked his whole life to get a holiday house
and a couple of weeks later
he died
and the govt took it back off us…
i reckon that was fuckin’ rude
i hear theyve done away with that tax in some places..
did they need the money so bad to do that to us?
anyway dennis is still going tho
on one lung only
hes still feisty n bohemian too
no ones gonna take him in with loada olde bullshit
i guess going thru ww2 can do that to ya
“dont think the allies didnt commit atrocities” he warned me once
and a look in his eyes told me he had seen some dark stuff
its funny the war made him harder
and it made my father softer
my father always approached life with great reverence
while to dennis it seemed maybe more temporary
i dunno
i do thank my lucky starrs
ive never had to try kill anyone
or had anyone trying to kill me
my biggest worries have been bullshit like
i gotta bad review
or
the chocolate soy milk failed to materialise
i feel kinda spoilt sometimes
ive had it good
real good
im thankful
i really am
my life has been sheltered n safe
in a turbulent world
anyway
its sunday
go out and celebrate
love your life a little
have an icecream
take a walk on the boardwalk
watch all those people go past
listen to all those voices
thats all you can do on a day like today
take it easy baybee
take it real slow
sk