A lot occurred tween one year and the next
That vital though it was will not in text
Be put; nor could it be – by me. For one,
I do not know the half of what was done,
What happened or to who. For two, although
My jelly eyes did witness half the show
(Or less) I didn't always understand
The plot, the serpent twists. I only scanned
The surface and misread what I there saw.
This poem that you read is mainly straw
Left over from the harvest. Those who seek
Some grains of truth herein will have to sneak
Those particles inside themselves.
Enough
Of this – tis time to look at other stuff
That happened.
Neil and Barry finished class
In April, did exams in May; both passed
With flying colours. Emmett meanwhile dropped
His classes altogether. James did opt
To work on with his music. Monuments
Of carelessness of his invention lent
Themselves as joints upon which to roll
The joints our heroes used to decontrol
Their thoughts.
On one mid-April morn
Young Levin from a window did adorn
The yard with one lit petrol bomb. Nor did
He think this worth a mention. Thenabouts
Ole Stankey first appeared, to make folk doubt
The sanity of others. Gluing coins
To tempt the passersby them to purloin
Provided entertainment. "Ah, good wench,"
Became a favourite phrase. The awful stench
Of unclean fridges made its mark. All this
The flood of history was like to miss;
But in this stream our heroes were submerged
And knew of little else. They each did urge
The other on in endless deeds of reck;
The stronger tea became, the longer trek
Through unknown streets of Belfast. Burned, the flag
That symbolised the US. In the bag:
Two hundred sherberts, eaten all at once.
For this is how a journeyman confronts
His so-called "destiny". The end of June
Saw Baz and Emmett leave the Pink Lagoon
To move in with a Punk. Chris also went,
To Dublin; he was meant to supplement
His study with some work experience. To
The Holy Lands did Hamish go. Review
The previous Canto for a simple trace
Of that long fateful story. – In their place:
John McIlroy took Chris' room; while James
Took Barold's old, to stop him going lame
From climbing three steep sets. – In James' room
When later it lay empty like a womb
There in a cupboard were discovered heaps
Of finished Lucozade. He liked to keep
The voided bottles. – Catherine also left.
To her room Red inmoved himself; he cleft
Of jaw and red, quite red, of hair. July
Saw Erwan taking Emmett's place. To lie
Beneath a disused curtain was his wont,
Until he brought some things from home. The haunt
That James forsook was filled by Aaron. Fat,
And fond of shooting BB weapons at
The wheelchair-bound from window high, he stuck
A picture of a bending lady up
Whose caption read: "Cum in my bum." Next door
To Aaron, Hamey's empty lodge, a corps
Of odd-like folk did occupy. The one
Who paid the rent was Geraldine. The fun
They had. Or rather all the fights. Her friend
A deaf and gay young man whom God did send
To try her. Then, the middle-agéd man
Who traced them from the pub and for the span
Of Gerry's time there called least twice a week
To moan about his wife and solace seek;
– She did not know his name.
This was year two.
The house by now was signif'ly askew
With bulging from the liv'room wall and mounds
Of rubbish building up. Indeed the bounds
That had been tested in year one were gone.
There was no good or bad. A pristine lawn
Was tilled and overturned; and sprouting from
The mess were healthy weeds. For some, the grum
And ghoulish grist was pleat with mass of growing;
For others shit was what it seemed, ongoing.
The banister from up the stairs was ripped;
A club was fashioned from it, firmly gripped
With satisfaction. Through the kitchen door
A knife was whacked. Sheer laziness forbore
The furframed shower head to be wiped clean
Or bracket mushroom chopped away. The dream
The house became became quite strange; the range
Of everyday emotion and exchange
Did broaden out. The flow began to shift
The heavy silt. The moorings came adrift.
Twas inabout this time that Erwan met
A friend of Neil and Barry's; thus was set
In train a seque of meetings, films and pubs
That he and Sheila joined to. Then too stubs
And scraps from papers, pasted on the wall,
Were used to tell the story of the squall
That swept the world. In chess, the stakes increased;
A ladder rose to climb, and every beast
Did trial for the crown. At Hallowe'en,
But one year since the fruice had drunken been
By Hamish; now twas Erwan's turn to drink
A trifle much. MacHill he glasses clinked
To shot-glass chess. With vodka in each piece,
And loser drinking lost this liquid feast
Was largely drunk by Erwan. Drunk indeed;
When playing games by flipping coin decreed
Determining who drunk the shot, he blind
To James' turning of the coin was. Mined
Like some mid-century harbour, up he went
To bed, collapsing three feet from his tent.
So Neil and Levin tucked the lad in bed.
Twas now the mine was triggered. Spews of red
And half-digested dinner – vodka too –
Came poring from his mouth. This awful stew
Both Lev and Neil at once agreed to leave
To Erwan. When he consciousness retrieved
Next morning, Erwan duly saw the mess
And so deduced he'd lost the game of chess
And most of dinner too.
While all of this
Went on, a man they did but slightly miss
When to their phone calls no response was made
– They got another dealer. This betrayed
The sad but blameless fact: when dealers go
There's none that wonder where. But even though
This general rule holds up, in this case not;
We'll hear the story. The first dope they bought
In Belfast – James and Emmett's who I mean –
They bought from Dessie Truesdale. This unclean
And scrawny man from hence supplied the hash
That kept the Pink ones thoughtful. Dessie's stash
Notoriously smelt of oil and sweat;
But still did what it ought. "Hi. Can I get
"A taxi from the church, for two," we'd ask.
But Des would oft forget the code. His task
Was simplified by the address. He sold
For £20 a 1/4. Heat or cold,
He'd turn up at the door. – Once just to see
If anybody wanted some. Then he
Was suddenly no more. His phone was tried
But silence answered. Other dealers plied
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His trade in place. Old Desmond wasn't dead;
Not yet. But certainly that hanging dread
Was on him. Everywhere he looked there leaped
The shadow of a man and gun. He slept
For two hours every night. The fear and pain
Prevented him from thinking straight. The game
Of running for his life was on. He knew
That some obscure but vital debt was due
With interest. Johnny was involved – "Mad Dog"
Adair – so Dessie sought to lift the fog
Of vaguely hinted threat by dating he
Who used to be the Dog's gay lover. – See
How hate and violent crime can yet give rise
To love of free and Californian guise?
Well, maybe not quite that, but closer than
The local average. Dessie met this man
At Giant's Ring, an ancient circle fort
Just south of Belfast. There they made some sport
A 'tryst' as tabloids put it. Dessie gained
But little from this carefully maintained
But somewhat soulless friendship. Interview
Him all he might, the man gave not a clue
Regarding Dessie's standing with the heads.
In Winter's darkest week the blood was shed
Of Dessie's closest mate. Jon Stewart was shot
Quite dead. From this point Dessie watched the blot
Of ink-black night descend. His house became
A tomb for lifeless dread; each day the same.
He watched from out his curtains for the gun
Twice daily tweaked them, wondering would it come
At night or in the impudence of day?
It didn't really matter either way.
In March Mo Courtney with Egyptian friends
Came knocking at his door. Did they intend
To kill him? No. They only beat his arms
And legs and head. They did him as much harm
As wouldn't end him. Stole his phone as well.
When Levin tried to ring he couldn't tell
Whose voice it was. (He speedily hung up).
Though Dessie's wounds were hell he did not stop
To let them heal; he promptly fled this place
To England. Johnny at this time was based
In jail, but not for long. Before Des fled
He stole both Johnny's dogs, two hounds pure bred.
And so for these past ten short years the taunts
Have periodically come: you want
Your dogs back but you never will.
When Neil
Had finished his degree in June the deal
With Emmett, Lev and Baz to see the world
Did not transpire; like most plans it unfurled.
Both Neil and Barry got a job; the aim
Was selling goods by phone. They both became
Exceptionally disenchanted when
To make them into better businessmen
they had to stand on desks if goods unsold
Remained at day's end. Neil and Baz soon bowled
Themselves well out. Barry took some work
Collecting glasses in a bar. A clerk
Did Neil become, in Windsor House down town.
This hardly thrilled him; better though than clown
About on desks. He worked eight stories up
Green netting on the windows meant to stop
Young folks from plunging in despair. Once in
A while, attempts were made to pull the pin
On large explosive bombs outside the place
They'd have to take half day. It left no trace
Of joy on Neil Steed's features to be kept
Employed thus. Luckily he was adept
At finding life good where he could. TV
Served up a treat: The Life of Mammals. Ye
Who know not David Attenborough, deplore
Your wasted life. This kept Neil Steed more
Than happy, for an hour a week. But soon
The house grew colder, heatless as the moon;
And Neil began to have his doubts. One night
He felt a strange sensation, quite like fright.
He listened to the walls – a low-pitched thrum;
And radiators shaking; like a drum
Was numbering his days. Dirty sinks;
The bulging of the wall; the fridgey stinks
Oppressed our red haired friend. The final straw
Came late December. Mice were seen to gnaw
At binbags in the kitchen. Traps were laid
And one caught just on Pseudomithras stayed,
Too cold to rot, for three whole weeks. So Neil,
Accepting that this state was not ideal,
Moved in with Sheila, Eoin, Mark. And then
He got a phone call stating where and when
He could begin his PhD.
Survive
One final canto – the final one is FIVE!
Canto Five