Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?
Welcome to Lager Time.
Had a bit of a break, was just busy, nothing spesh,
but I’m with back with four poems from the older file. Poems below for those on Substack.
Subscribe if you like
Have a banging bank-holiday
Peas and taters
Paul
Ray Flecter Sunglasses That Barley Shield the Sun
I’m an ill-equipped archaeologist trying to excavate the truth
I’m a twice-a-year catholic stealing lead from the church roof
I’m downloading on dial-up Dances With Wolves plus deleted scenes
I’m everything and anything I wouldn’t ever wonna’ be
You’re a narcissistic stick-insect trying to convince itself it’s fat
You night read by spinning globe-light believing the earth is flat
You’re sailing shoes are brand-new and have never seen the sea
You’re anything and everything I wouldn’t ever wonna’ be
They’re globe-trotting eco-travellers who drive the car to the shops
They’re avant-garde fine-diners sipping Monster and Panda Pops
They’re conscious political activists who vote if it’s on TV
They’re everything and anything I wouldn’t ever wonna be
We’re all bedroom cleaners shoving everything under the bed
We’re all waging fingers at noisy neighbours leaving mess
We’re all buying books that sit unread but looking pretty
We’re everything and anything that we probably choose to be
Workshop
This pen ain’t no swordor weaponif anything, it’sa minute taker in ameeting, bored out of herflipping mind, imaginingdecking the dullard withthe white teeth talkingover the power pointdoodling on the paperinserting silly words intothe notes, just for herown amusement
a subtle survival techniqueaware a combined force of moronshave her surrounded on all
sides and although she lacksthe resources to fight them, shetakes solace in the fact that her
wage-superiors, sat around her
all feigning interest in thepower-point plank, have tolie about it just to get by.No thanks, she thinks
Weak Walking Shoes
Back then I didn’t know many people into people into
outdoor pursuits, certainly not outside Ikon-Diva
Crawley’s premier late-night go-to in 01
gone 2am with a curb-side-view, scuffles on the
pavement, arguments in the kebab que
couple of times I put on a pair of clumpy walking
shoes, zipped up the ugly- fleece and attempted to
scale the moral high ground, preaching to my mates
below that fighting was an immature thing to do
Now I’m at an age, where, keep it down, yea but
I might actually enjoying walking and I might-possibly-
have considered purchasing a pair of ugly-arse walking
shoes, because they’re water-proof and comfy and …
listen, that kid my mates mate slapped that time, probably deserved it
mouthed off unprovoked, squared up, probably shirtless
and when push came to shove, I was probably deserting
knowing deep down, I lacked the right gear for that sort of pursuit
wrong sort of shoes
so I ascended hilly peaks and preached my views
convinced I was on higher ground like a
champagne-socialist one windfall
away from a super yacht cruise
What’s Mr Chips Doing?
Not gonna’ lie
at times, she does my nut in
nothing ever that major, mainly minor but
major enough for us to get angry about, then laugh later
misinterpreting sentences, miss-read messages
making a mess and not tidying and differing
opinions on what tidy is and who’s
opinion is the definitive
in those moments, when the heat-peaks and the talking stops, inside I
turn cartoon-angry man; shoulders scrunched, face frowning, fists
clenched and steam bursting out my ears, condensation fogging
my view, twisting the narrative into something skewed
when I take myself out, calm down, the scene slowly
reveals itself, like the big-screen on Catch Phrase
little pixilated bricks start falling away and I
see what Mr Chips is really doing, without
the wild-guesses obscuring my view
I’m left with the naked truth and
it’s absolute
she’s holding up a house
holding down a career
supporting a family and a new husband who
has differing opinions on what tidy is and
what constitutes good food
all the steam that seeps out my ears
just little digital glitches
that only require little fixes
me admitting the things that I did or
didn’t and with the bricks all cleared, I
see how brilliant she
really is
