Sinister: an old friend returns

[The Narrow Wizard]

I was sitting in my room today when I heard a tap tap tapping upon my
window. When I looked out I saw a dark coloured bird just sitting there.
It's a bloody raven I thought, I'll wring the damn things neck and it'll
bother me never more. When I opened the window and made a grab for it
though it said wait Owen don't and then it said you've been reading too
much Poe again haven't you. Fuck I said it's the Poetry Parrot. Yes thats
right it said now let me in and give me a wash cos I'm all dirty and then
I'll tell you what I've been up to.
well I did this and soon our friends plumage was as bright as ever and he
sarted talking to me. He said this:

You remember that I used to fly around the sinister members staying with
each one for a week and then giving all of sinister a poem before the
member sent me on to another member. Well a while back I got lost
somewhere in north America and just wandered lonely as a cloud for quite
some time. It was tough and with nobody to look after me I became the
dirty wretch which you saw earlier. I realised that I had to do something
or I would die but how could I find a member of sinister in such a large
world. It was then that I thought I know if I fly to Scotland and then
just follow the smell of cinnamon then I'll find that strange wizard chap
and so I did and now that I've found you we can give all of sinister a
poem and then you can send me on so that we can have a poem every monday
and things will be just like they used to be.

well I told the parrot that I thought this was a great idea and we picked
up a book of poetry called the new modern poetry which we thought was
funny 'cos the book was over 30 years old and anyway it fell open at a
page with this poem on, it's called Parliament Of Cats and it's by D.J.
Enright.

The cats caught a Yellow-vented Bulbul.
Snatched from them, for three days it uttered
Its gentle gospel, enthroned above their heads.
Became loved and respected of all the cats.
Then succumbed to internal injuries.
The cats regretted it all profoundly,
they would never forget the evil they had done.

Later the cats caught a Daurian Starling.
And ate it. For a Daurian Starling is not
A Yellow-vented Bulbul. (genuflection.)
Its colouring is altogether different.
It walks in a different, quite unnatural fashion.
The case is not the same at all as that of
The Yellow-vented Bulbul. (genuflection.)

The kittens caught a Yellow-vented Bulbul.
And ate it. What difference, they ask, between
A Yellow-vented Bulbul and that known criminal
The Daurian Starling? Both move through the air
In a quite unnatural fashion. This is not
The Yellow-vented Bulbul of our parents' day,
Who was a Saint of course! (genuflection.)


Well I hope you liked that, we did, but the Poetry Parrot says that he's
glad he isn't a Yellow-vented Bulbul or a Daurian Starling. I'm also glad
that I'm not a Yellow-vented Bulbul or a Daurian Starling. Anyway we were
talking about where the parrot could go next and at first we thought that
GEORGE DICKIE

    could be a good
      idea

as his use of

                        space


                                  can be quite
exhillerating.

but then we thought no cos all those capitals would give poor old ee
cummings a headache and we couldn't have that could we. Instead I sent the
parrot on to Archel in the hope that after looking after him for a week he
might induce her to give us one of her own great poems. I also thought
this was a good way for her to inspire other people to write something and
send it to her for her little publication (shameless plug I know).

so the parrot has gone
           and I'm left all alone 
                    so it must be time for bed.
we'll meet again
           in one weeks time
                    to see what's in Archels head.

Goodnight
   love
     owen

With that the narrow wizard waggled his bushy eyebrows and disappeared in
a flash of blue flame leaving behind only a faint smell of cinnamon

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