It’s
not a book of poetry but a book with poetry
in
a travel-lodge-travelogue-soapy-doc-opera that
starts as it means to begin
about people and things
lots and not much
two-footed tackles
and the deftest of touch
high protein low fat roadside snack bars
economy class air travel and boys’ smells
in cars
liniment,
‘leccy guitars, sheep and despair
Issy Myake and Ferrero Rocher
time and decay
and light and shade
those who’ve really got it
and those who’ve got it made
on a highbrow, lowbrow, disposable and permanent
cheap day return between the gutter and the
firmament
by a fraudulent weaver
of linguistic spells
who writes in bruises
and anonymous hotels
delivering big words with a neat line and length
so he can flog all his weaknesses dressed up
as strength
in tales of modern hardware
and tough, urban life
of gods and gobshites
and the world and his wife
flatulence, depression, spring onions, Pink
Floyd
the kissed off, the pissed off and the slightly
annoyed
there’s
places, faces and flat-packed grounds
shekels and euros, monopoly dosh and pounds
big balls and little balls
racquets, studs and bats
feigning reigning champions
and raining dogs and cats
ear wax and haemorrhoids, the scally millionaire
Elvis sidies, bum fluff, own goals and nose
fur
flavours of the month
flagging up the latest saviour
the link between poor diet
and outrageous behaviour
European one-night stands and continental drift
and the vocational epiphany when everyone got
epiphed
think
of a low budget version of Gullivers Travels
(obviously without the bondage)
that occasionally twists and turns and unravels
more Houyhnhnm than Yahoo
more Nerys Hughes than Ted
a veritable dog’s dinner
on a piece of wholemeal bread
where paragraphs wait to be sentenced
and commas slip into comas
a healthy slice of life’s warp and weft
with name-dropping misnomers
all wrapped up in a book of bits
or even a bit of a book
an heir apparent amongst the remaindered ones
that nobody bothered to pick up
overlooking
the gratuitous, labyrinthine prose
the shin splints, the broken hearts and the
cauliflower nose
I’m sure it’s got a format, I’m
just not sure what it is
but it’s well hard for a softback and
it’s sorted for cheese and whizz
so
if it’s beauty you’re after, with
romance
and perhaps a clever twist
read it Saturday night, half eleven
curried-up and pissed
