Constriction - This Sporting Leaf

A ditty by Doctorshoot to be recited out loud after several scotches and in the style of the brilliant John Cooper-Clarke

-

Constriction visits my chest perhaps because these cigarettes have
tarnished me burnished me vanquished me banished me from
the field of sports
ravaged me savage tar nicotar push me out throw me down
cough me off slough me off gasp me out rasp me out
lasting out inbetween fags like the stub of a man
highlunged man who once ran so / ran so /
ran the lengths with a burst
finishing burst finishing first lost that thirst now I’ve cursed
my veins my heart my head my hopes and give cancer a chance….
and the lungs bellow lungs bellow bellows
bellow out just below the next smoke next moment
next moment next moment bellows my lungs
could be the one – cough! cough! – could be the one
I’m sorry to say
here is your last sentence, cough your way through it….

But then

Maybe my chest is constricted because of
the motor cars passing me charging me rushing me battering one
battery down on another one battering rams splattering rams
motor car rotor car crossing kids tossing kids splitting lids
splatter bids bleeping and blasting and smogging and fogging me
petrol in money out stifling rifling stacking and jamming and
rushing the green orange screech at the red with their
stress factor mess factor hell bent let hell loose and
lined faces twitching from white line line fever or
is it
hard artery fever or is it the
galloping gear-change accelerator factor clutching me?
my – cough – cough – chest….

But look

Why should I care
when the trees are endangered and cut down and burned up and
woodchipped and cardboarded threeplied and hardboarded
cleared off and burned off and cast off and….
they don’t have chests to constrict but they die so
why worry why care
if I work enough hours and build enough towers
they say I can be an Australian millionaire…. like
Langhang in a plane or reefbuster Joh making cash by the bucketfull
flash flesh the skilletfull
millions you’re laughing and double it twice
and
in Switzerland clinics for cancer are nice…

-

Footnotes:

“Langhang in a plane” refers to the late Lang Hangcock spotting red mountains which he determined to be iron ore and later staked it out and founded the Iron Ore mining industry in Australia
“Reefbuster Joh” refers to the late premier of Queensland who when asked about his plans to mine the great barrier reef is reputed to have said: “don’t you worry about that, it’s only coral and there’s plenty more”

Animal Thing -- by File

-


I’ve heard that on your planet you’ve something we don’t
Where you’ve tolerated cohabitation
Sadly we won’t

While we’ve become known for fare for a cannibal
You’ve made do with a thing called
The animal

We’ve never seen one
But

We’ve heard tell of noises and things in the forest
The spring loaded, metal toothed snare
And spinning bullets

And we’ve seen the bags, jars, boxes and chilled display cabinets
Crates and cages, tanks, mountings and pins

We’re aware of harnesses, bridles, leads, nose-rings and spurs
Electric prods, electric fences, shampoo testing procedures and branding irons

And are in awe of the range of kitchen-alia you’ve contrived
The crusher, the slicer, the mincer, hooks and saws
The tenderizer, the gouger, the sea-salt grinder and skewers
And the deep fat fryer

The mot trouvé of the day is sizzle
And it would be nice to still have something to pet and yet…

Let’s look at the carcass and bone you have sold and now own
Fur coats, breathable leather belts, sofas, shoes and sharp toothed medallions

And we know that in them you saw you
The tentacles, the agility and ability to land on your feet
The tendency to jig on a hot tin roof, cheekily
Lots of sex
But unhygienic and can be taken to water but not made to drink
So free, but so stubborn and loyal
And sometimes, just sometimes, you turn into princes

We realize they provided a semblance of security
For abbateurs, cowboys, and butchers’ families
And for those of the pit organizers, big game (and little) hunters and of taxidermists too

And are mightily impressed with the jobs they do for you
The guards, messengers and porters of packs, bombs and in mines
Testing for gas with their lives while also pulling ploughs and biting drug dealers’ arms

Though it’s a difficult thing for the mind of a cannibal
To understand everything you’ve done with
The animal

We’ve never seen one
But
We can see the human shaped footprint in your lives now they’ve gone.

-

When sorry seems to be the hardest word -- by DoctorShoot

-


Draped across a sheepskin
Bea lies in front of her crackling heat and reveals
Only the tiniest fragment of her stolen youth and enquires
In response to the question asked:
“So do you hate them for it?”

“Only for the touches on my skin
That lingered with pleasure, and a kindness that steals
Your chance for despising all the rest” He says and expires
Back into the leather sofa tasked with
Trying to let them off for it.

“but for what?” she asks again
Searching out the point. “I saw my grandmothers heels shot
From horseback like that wounded knee….so?” He tires
Knowing he has exposed at last
His own prerequisite.

Anyhow the crumpled photo slips within
Repossessed letters, then not received, now readied for the fire. It
feels
Like some escape with scrawling on the boarding house spires
And across the smiling face in ghastly
White: ‘I forgive you’ unmerited and unfit.

-

Her Room

How those Guardian competitions do get us going, to be sure. Recently in their Poetry Workshop they asked for dramatic monologues. Here are just some of the rules:

1. Think of a situation where your speaker (A) is talking to another person (B), at a certain place.2. Speaker A wants to tell listener B something about person C, whom B may or may not know. 3. In talking about person C, speaker A should let slip their attitude to C that may expose a 'weakness' in A. 4. You could also involve the reaction of listener B through the comments of speaker A.
Further considerations: a. Try to establish the setting within the opening lines. Only delay this information if it will add to the drama of the situation. b. Make sure you have signalled clearly to the reader what the basic relationship between A and B is. c. Plan carefully the order in which you want A to say the things that need to be said about C.

You can read File's monologue on Pseudscorner. Here's mine (and before anyone sends flowers I should add that it's completely fictional):




Her Room

by Zephirine


I’ve never liked her. If you met her, you’d know what I mean -
Cold air of rightness. Cropped hair, lipstick the wrong shade.
You think I’m not being fair to her? Perhaps, but don’t forget
She’s handed me some pretty awful moments
since she first took my case.

Another glass? - oh, come on.. After all
- waiter, please! -
we’ve something to celebrate!

Her room has carpet with red flecks on squares of grey,
curtains that hang limp in a corpselike shade of beige;
she has a desk, dark wood with brass bits and a name
in front of which she sits, and looks at you, so calm.
When I first met her in that room my knees were weak
I felt my life turn, change, and slide under my feet,
and every homely certainty dissolve and fade.
She said, “I thought you’d want to hear it straight.”

Where’s he gone now? Ah yes, he’s over there -
- waiter, please! -
More champagne for both of us!

I’ve never liked her. Of course, she was doing the right things.
She was the expert. She knew what I’d be going through.
You think I blamed her for the pain? Yes, but she’s used to that.
And when she said today “It’s in remission”,
I could have kissed the bitch.

Haiku intro

Here is a new site
for Pseuds to enjoy themselves
writing some more stuff

Pseudscorner's for sport
but you can write here about
many other things

If you have something
you'd like to put here, please send
it to Zephirine:


barbzeph-mail@yahoo.co.uk