To Bypass Cartesian Notation
Lot Seventeen: two lightweight combs,
A hairbrush and a rabbit's foot,
A llama for those ideal homes,
A suitcase full of Grade A soot
An apple and some bones
Collected in a cardboard box
Such as might delight a fox,
... (buyer to collect)
How I remember the thrill of that day
The burnished lectern, catalogues
The hush when we heard the auctioneer say
"Be quiet at the back, you villainous hogs!"
And then, the gavel raised
As if ever skyward
Asking who would bid. I would
... though, in retrospect ...
Reticence gets the better
I wish I'd never seen the ad
Or found the crimson letter
I never would have sold my Dad
Nor heard his farewell groans
Echoing through the draughty halls
Where now the hungry woodworm crawls
.... then again, who knows?
Lot Twenty-One? I cannot go on,
A Chippendale ormulu clock
With a face that you had to blow on
To avoid being hauled to the dock,
Too late! Too late to say,
As only words can betray
I only can suppose ...
That it's accurate but twice a day
But three and twenty times a night
Its chiming, remote and blasé,
Fills the passages with delight
And corridors with glee
Such as makes the soul écrasé
The flesh beyond repair
O, how we despair!
How I remember the chill of that night
The sterling starlight, lantern glow,
The simpering pedants to left and to right
The faltering fascists lisping low,
Too late, I say, too long
I wish that time were'nt on my side
Enforcing my cruel parricide
.... then again, who cares? ...
| Contributors: | Roland, KT, The Agent Apsley, TG, Rob, P, Elizabeth, Grayman. |
| Poem finished: | 9th November 1999. |