Sinister: Just shut the fuck up

[Peter Carter]

Well... my birthday yesterday. I had, in order, 4/5ths of a bottles of wine,
2/5ths of a bottle of vodka (in vodka jelly), at least three pints and
probably a lot more besides. I went to an open mike poetry/music thing,
which was really good, some girl actually made 'Rocky Racoon' sound really
good and played two other songs brilliantly (can't remember what they were
off hand) and they was some pretty good comedy poetry too. I read out... why
the hell didn't my friend stop me? I read 'Visiting Rachael in Leicester'
(posted before), 'After the Funeral' and 'Funeral' (both included below), I
managed to get a laugh when I read out the title 'Funeral', understandably I
guess (I was planning to read others between the two but in my drunken state
I couldn't tell that a few of the poems were pressed together and thought
I'd forgotten them). I managed to miss several sections out of the poems and
had to repeat other sections. I also got stuck on the word 'disrespectful'
for at least 5 tries and finally managed to say
'difrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrispfctfel', much to everyones amusement... and mine, I
was too drunk to be embarressed. When I got back apparently (I have not
recollection of this) I debated long and hard (no pun intended) over which
of
the three single girls in the room I was going to have sex with. No-one
really knows whether I was joking, though I hope to God I was. I feel
like the boy with the arab strap now, drawling out poetry to music and
making lots of sexual comments.

Poems... you may wish to skip this bit.

-------------beginning of skipable bit---------------------

"After the Funeral (of Cathleen Harper)

I watched the fireplace like a puppet,
Its reflection tripping on some new porcelain surround
On some middle class image, middle ground picture,
Of a rose in a jar, like an image of life
On somebody's sterilised perfection.
I thought of you, I thought that Cathleen
Should have been on my mind.

The fire burnt out in a few minutes
Of listening to music that sounded like your lyrics
If you knew more about lyrics
To make them sound like you.
It was more of a death to loose that image of you
Than everything that went before.
The anaesthetised vicar, and all the holy clichés
Most of which could never apply.

A candle burned down too
That looked like you, still sharp,
The wax forming a rough edge around the rim,
Like the part you don't let me see,
Though you'd like me to see everything.

And I loved you
For keeping away tales of the new stereo,
And later the half masked sounds of MTV,
As my Auntie and Uncle tilted the discussion
Away from the uncomfortable.
But it could have been for anything.

For Sabrina Tulk"

"Funeral

I watched as my mother approached
That box, I hung back, thought death
Might be catching. That thing wasn't in the box,
It was in the meaninglessness that hangs around her house,
The posters that don't mean anything, like they were used to
Being on that blank wall, without looking blank themselves.

I felt like your voyeur, an invited,
Unwelcome spectator on their grief. I wasn't needed,
I was helpful but false. Everyone else laughed to hide, I laughed at
anything
I found amusing.

There was no smell in the hearse,
No hospital smell, no rotting.
The driver looked the part, in a black suit
Grey haired, he didn't talk. He wasn't important.

And on the long journey back, our driver risking disrespectful speeds
Past lorry drivers and old ladies,
I just thought of dividing the newly liberated
House. Who would get what, where the (her) money
Would wash out.
I felt ashamed, though perhaps not guilty."

--------------------end of skipable bit--------------------------------

I've also found a great band at my Uni, they are called 'Fear of Drugs', I'm
putting them on a mix tape for a sinister'. I'll put them up as mp3s soon
and post the link here. They wrote a song called 'Tony Hart Up in the Head'
which samples all the accidental cannibis referances in 'Hart Beat' such as
'Look at all the green in those leaves... I think I get another' and 'That's
mine finished, lets see how they're getting along with theirs'. Very amusing
to hear from the lips of Tony Hart. For those of you who are not
British/have no taste, Hart Beat was a childrens art program that ran a few
years ago and Tony Heat is very much the sweet natured, befuddled old man.

Oh, and I just looked at the sillistrations page, it's great and I pictured
Miss Playforth looking exactly like that, I am waiting for a sillistration
of myself in the likeness on the Arab Strap guy... I don't think it'll
happen.

"...and of course everyone felt appropriately shocked and saddened by the
women's affliction..."

The Happy Reaper


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