memories

war

empty crisp packets full of dust
soot from the chimney
plaster from the ceilings
made a good bomb

pick chisel and boot
the uplifting of floorboards

tumble down of walls

(the breakage of window
- six weeks of it)

and just before the new school year
i got the itch........

"that's what you get when you go
playing in empty houses"

said ma

wicked smile on her face
tooth comb in hand

the sizzle of nits exploded
on a coal fire

(me aged 11 maybe 12)

Chester Zoo
&
doing the monkey walk
(age 4 0r 5ish)

(i)

through the cheese wire
chipped

sausage-like fingers

sucked to the bone
hot dog

candyfloss

meat for the lion that leapt
at the fence

neil having shook it

the beast was not going to have its
bone nicked

(ii)

my heart still aflutter

as the pleasure boat cruising the dee
rocked

I cried

thought we were sinking
and I couldn't swim

it wasn't my fault

fear snaked wet and warm
down my leg

dangled out the leg of my shorts

Slops 1968

half a crown
I found it down the back of a settee
another root made a thru'penny bit

mother tore into the spring cover

revealed a further sixpence
a penny ha'penny

dad had to pay out
a good few guineas
for new

                  and
                the lot
        was measured
                   in
                beer

flame snort from a dragon's nostril

eyes lit upon me

out of school
my shadow folded in the rise
and fall of the back
steps

scorched in flame snort from a dragon's nostril

the way she stood
arms folded over and
heaving her breasts
enough

when she held out half a crown
I was ever so greatful all she wanted
was for me to go get my hair cut

it was all I could do to hang on to my waist
as my legs turned ten to the dozen
for short back and sides

5th week of the summer holidays

and we were so bored we sailed out bottles
toward the centre of the local hole

into which we threw our gathered stones
to smash and sink them

making all the noises of war while a cherry sun set swept the horizon

none of us fully imagined how colour can wash a whole scene

spill over years

Often we don’t know where Philip’s head is
(comment on a school report)?

would be football
on the way home from school

a vision

maybe one day to pick up the "Jules Rimmet"
if not murdered in the mean time

beaten up and over again

new shoes were always scuffed
and my ears were always red

scorch of a clout from ma

under orders not to move

age eight
stood on a pub doorstep
somewhere between

jimmy edwards and the clitheroe kid
comedy and home

long emptied bottle (mineral
water pacifier) still tightly clenched
in fist

am bursting for a pee

mum and dad
aunt and uncle

methinks

these past thirty-five years
one of the buggers should have
come out with a bag of crisps

for me

upside down
mother reaching up
her hand warmed my backside

the rear wheel of my bicycle mocked
round and around - ticker ticker
tick tick

once she pulled me out of the doll's pram
I picked up that tubular mass of steel and
peddled for all it was worth

without the stabilisers

sailed to applause straight into the lamp post
at the bottom of the street

(memories age 6ish
- and without breaks)

I want the sort of hair you can loop over the arm of a lamp post to swing on

and so we entered the 70s
with me age 10

scooting out of school by the back door

to miss ma
waiting at the front

am wise now to the lie

never again would I fall for the allusion
a shopping trip would incur a new plaything

only to end up on the barber's chair

age 7
too young for funerals
packed off to grandmas

save nightmares

so many adventures
a grass slide on the slope of penguin's umbrella factory
cowboys eating spuds baked by open fire
soldiers in the old prison of war camp and exploring
spooky marbury hall with its ghosts

we let off fireworks in the hollow of the woods
and the noise they made was enough to wake the dead

I fell on something sharp hidden in the overgrowth
gashed my knee

meant stitches in the local infirmary

my doctor gave me a tanner because I didn't once cry
- of course he didn't see me howl at grandmas when
I thought from the amount of blood and bandage they
were going to cut my leg off and I'd never play togga
again

limped next day into the back room of granny aida's house
and wondered why there were so many people there
how they all seemed to know me and why they were all
taking turns to look in the big box under the front room
window

strangely weird the way that box was taken to church
for hymns and how the carrier squeaked in time to footstep
as the men in black coats wheeled the box out to the churchyard
where it was buried

whatever it was

I considered it
treasure

==

(tanner = old silver sixpence,
togga = nickname kids around grandma's house had for soccer / football)

parroting ma (age 3 or 4)

i heard her do it often
there was a knock at the back door
and I yelled: "come in"

in walked the co-op insurance man
"hello" he said "is yer mam in?"

it was like a pantomime scene
on location
me in the back room
he in the doorway
mam at the back kitchen sink
stripped to the waist

her eyes his eyes mine

each of us instantly aware
in our own minds
the next move

key

Autumn 67

Mother had us all out to pick blackberries off briars
spilled over the Pipe Field at the Imperial Chemical
Company’s Winnington Works.

Dad, me, Aunty Kath and Uncle Ken who were just married
and lodging with us.

A lovely pie was made of that fruit. And the fruit made us
glow in the night!