Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

There’s stickers all over the place.

I’ve no idea what he’s supposed to have done,

What crime he’s committed to have lost face.

 

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

It says it clearly, so it has to be true.

He’s probably banged up in a cell somewhere,

Wondering what on Earth he can do.

 

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

He’ll need a lawyer for his defence,

To argue his case before the bench,

To plead mitigation for the offence.

 

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

It’s probably right that he’s behind bars,

But why make his prosecution so public?

Is it written somewhere in the stars?

 

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

Let that be fair warning to us all!

It’s so easy to fall from one’s pedestal,

So simple to take a great fall.

 

Bill Posters Will Be Prosecuted!

But now I’ve got a knot in my knickers,

Because I’ve just seen another notice,

And they’re doing the same to Bill Stickers!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 30th May 2021

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 30^th 2021 

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:                                              

1.      An international incident was sparked this week when a Swindon to Trowvegas bus, routed through D-Town, was hijacked on the outskirts of The Sham and forced to terminate its journey on the Bowerhill Industrial Estate.  Once there, a passenger was removed, along with his girlfriend, and detained at a local branch of Screwfix, where he was made to purchase several plumbing items that he did not really need.  A tattered parts catalogue was later discovered on the back seat of the bus, which was later allowed to continue its original journey.  The incident had been condemned as borough-sponsored terrorism. 

2.      And yesterday, in a secret and surprise ceremony held at The Vize’s  St. Chlamydia Basilica on the High Street, the leader of the Council, Justin Case, was formally married to his current fiancée, Jenny Tailyer.  Nearly five people attended.  The Service was held according the rites of the Happy Clappy Church, whose members believe in conscious incompetence, serial mendacity, and periodic self-immolation.  Mr. R. U. Joking was the best man. 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

The Resistance Of The Meek

The Resistance Of The Meek

Apparently the meek shall inherit the Earth,

But they’re shoved aside by those who would shout.

The squeaky wheel makes the loudest noise,

And reasonable voices are drowned out.

 

So I’m starting a new resistance movement,

To combat those whose behaviour’s too wild -

The only qualification is that you’ve got to be gentle,

Not only quite meek, but also terribly mild.

 

There won’t be any noisy protests,

We won’t be waving banners out on the street.

We’re going to awfully well behaved,

Whenever we decide that we’d like to meet.

 

We’ll be humble and we’ll be discreet,

Our anger and annoyance will remain pent.

You’ll have to pay very close attention,

To detect the tiny signs of our dissent.

 

We’ll start with strongly-worded letters,

Followed up with tuts and with sighs,

And if we get really worked up,

We’ll go as far as rolling our eyes.

 

We’ll be rattling our cups in their saucers,

Over morning coffee and afternoon tea.

A frank exchange of tea and biscuits,

Then everyone will look up and see.

 

We shall mow our lawns in careful stripes,

Wear gloves when we’re driving the car,

Wear beige clothes and sensible shoes,

Then you’ll see how serious we are!

 

We’ll carefully study our thermostats,

When controlling our Central Heating,

And there’ll be competitive queuing at the Post Office

If any resistance we’re meeting.

 

Politeness doesn’t cost anything,

Or so we’ve always been told.

It’ll be compulsory “pleases” and “thank-yous”,

But only if you don’t mind us being so bold?

 

We shall avoid the self-service check-outs,

Because we don’t trust the technology.

We shall hold the door open for ladies,

Because manners triumph over biology. 

 

Caravanning will be a serious lifestyle choice,

And we’ll drive at a steady forty-two,

For a nice few days in Cleethorpes,

Altogether with our chemical loo.

 

Switching to decimal currency was a mistake:

We’ve only just got used to the change.

We’re going to keep on writing cheques,

Cos contactless cards are completely deranged!

 

We’ll insist on carpeting round the toilet,

And keeping loo rolls in crocheted dollies,

Because we all like things to look nice -

Just accept it as one of our follies.

 

We’ll be pulling on our cable-knit jumpers,

And buttoning our cardigans extra tight,

Before sliding into our very best slippers,

And double-locking the doors for the night.

 

And overnight we’ll use Steradent extra strength,

When cleaning and soaking our false teeth,

To make sure we have the shiniest dentures,

To hide the anger that’s bubbling beneath.

 

So if you’d like to join this radical movement,

And be a part of this seismic shift,

Just sidle over here and whisper quietly,

That, sometimes, you can get really quite miffed.

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Gentlemen LIft The Seat

Gentlemen Lift The Seat

In visiting the facilities one day,

I saw a notice that had me quite beat,

For, there upon the facing wall,

It said “Gentlemen Lift The Seat”.

 

I pondered this sociological observation -

Its meaning I couldn’t have guessed -

Was it a direct command I wondered?

Or a passive-aggressive request?

 

What had driven someone to write this?

Had previous visitors created some pain,

By misusing this convenience,

And not respecting the porcelain?

 

I guess it’s not aimed at the ladies

But it’s them that we’re trying to please

So I suppose it could be much better written:

Could You Men Aim Too?  Please?

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Lamb & Apricot Stew

Recipe for: LAMB & Apricot Stew 

Ingredients: 

·        2 tblsp olive oil

·        250-500g stewing lamb, cubed (or use beef)

·        1 onion, thinly sliced

·        1 garlic clove, chopped

·        1 tblsp fresh ginger, finely chopped

·        2 tsp mixed Eastern spice mix e,g. garam masala

·        1 tblsp tomato puree

·        5-10 dried apricots, halved

·        300ml veg or chicken stock

 

Method: 

1.      In a medium casserole heat the oil and brown the cubed lamb, in batches if necessary.  Set aside

2.      Add onion, garlic & ginger & fry for five minutes until softened & golden

3.      Add spice mix, tomato puree, apricots & stock

4.      Return the browned meat cubes to the pan

5.      Simmer gently for 25 – 40 minutes until meat is tender (longer for beef)

 

What else you need to know: 

1.      Serve with cous-cous, mint and lemon wedges

 

Who Was That?

Who Was That?

I’m trying to solve a mystery

Something that’s been bothering me

I’m searching for a criminal mind

As you will shortly be able to see

 

It started off in the fridge

When looking for the chocolate I’d left

The wrapper was folded and torn

And of half the bar I was bereft

 

There were no footprints leading away

No clues I could possibly follow

But a theft had been committed

Leaving me feeling empty and hollow

 

The next outrage was in the bathroom

(I’d only popped in for a widdle)

When I couldn’t help but notice

The toothpaste had been squeezed from the middle

 

The toilet seat was in the wrong position

But worse than that was that I found

Someone had been here before me

The loo roll was fitted the wrong way round!

 

The bins hadn’t been emptied

The dirty dishes not cleared away

I was finding lots of things wrong

As I walked round the house on that day

 

Someone had drunk the last of the milk

In the bread-bin there was only a crust

I had to find out who was doing these things

And uncover the perpetrator I must!

 

Who was it that left their keys in the door?

And failed to shut the windows last night?

Where have these dirty foot-prints come from?

And who forgot to switch off the light?

 

I must do some basic detective work

Before I rush to call in Scotland Yard

There’s evidence all over the place

I’m sure that it can’t be that hard

 

I already have my suspicions

Of who left all that mess on the mat

I really hate to point fingers

But I’m guessing it must be the cat 

 

The only problem with these theories

The thing that doesn’t hold any water

Is there’s no motive or opportunity

Nothing hangs together like it ought to

 

No, I’ll just have to face up to facts

Which any amateur sleuth would soon see

Now that I’m living all on my own

Means the criminal just has to be …me!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

(I'll) Do It Tomorrow

(I’ll) Do It Tomorrow

I’m not one for procrastination,

Not wishing to cause myself any sorrow,

But there are a few things that I’d like to put off,

Cause I can always do them - Tomorrow.

 

Tomorrow’s a wonderful day,

In fact my favourite day of the week,

For Tomorrow never actually arrives,

So we never need climb up that particular peak.

 

Tomorrow - I’ll do the washing and ironing,

I might even get round to the cleaning,

I could mow the lawn, or get into the garden,

Before life loses all of its meaning.

 

Tomorrow - I’ll put new batteries into the clock,

Or possibly fit a new washer onto the tap.

Is it worth me learning to play the guitar,

When my previous attempts were so terribly crap?

 

Tomorrow - I might finally weaken,

And concede that I’ll have to empty the bin -

There’s only so many ways you can squash it down,

In a futile attempt to cram yet more in!

 

Tomorrow - I’ll throw that yoghurt out of the fridge -

It’s growing penicillin if the truth be to tell.

I’m never going to be  bio-chemist,

And the kitchen is starting to smell.

 

Tomorrow - I swear I’ll read the instructions,

For all the appliances and things that I own.

There’s a huge pile of the tedious things,

And my collection has certainly grown.

 

Tomorrow - I’ll pay off the credit-card bill,

Avoid interest, and pay off the balance in full.

I could even complete my tax return,

But that would be incredibly dull!

 

Tomorrow - I’ll start eating a sensible diet,

And start to cut down my consumption of beer.

I’ll reserve the option to start my exercise regime -

The path to better health’s too obvious and clear.

 

Tomorrow - I’ll apply for a stair-lift,

Or perhaps invest in funeral plan.

There’s always a chance I’ll get round to it,

Before I finally go down the pan. 

 

Tomorrow - I might get into religion,

Look into eternity and all of that.

Tomorrow - I’ll seek out the Jehovah’s Witnesses,

And ask them to pop round for a chat!

 

Tomorrow - I’ll read right through “Ulysses”,

Then tackle Tolstoy’s classic “War & Peace”.

Tomorrow - I’ll admit I’ve been wrong about something,

Tomorrow!  Tomorrow! Wonders might never cease!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

The Anti-Bucket List

 The Anti-Bucket List or “empty” bucket list.  Perhaps it’s a “fuck it” list?

What’s this with working through a “bucket list”?

Things to experience before you die?

Can’t you just do that stuff anyway?

Without having to explain the reasons why?

 

After all, we’re all going to kick that bucket,

Albeit some of us quicker than others,

So I’ve devised a different strategy -

Listen here, sisters and brothers.

 

I’m taking the opposite approach,

One that’s simpler to put into action,

Cause you can do it all from your armchair -

In fact that’s its greatest attraction.

 

It’s all a matter of understanding oneself,

Coming to terms with one’s languor,

Of keeping all calm and collected,

And of one’s energy not turning to anger.

 

It’ll save me both time and good money,

And I’ll recommend it strongly to you.

So here’s a good solid agenda,

A list of things I’m NOT going to do.

 

I shan’t play for Yorkshire at cricket,

Nor wear the England shirt at football,

No ski-ing, or playing golf, or athletics,

In fact taking part in no sport at all.

 

So that also rules out the Olympics,

And trying to run a four-minute mile,

Running a marathon’s preposterous -

I can be lying in bed all the while.

 

Zip-lining, bungee-jumping, paragliding,

Activities designed to introduce strife,

Water-ski-ing, wing-walking or parachuting,

Anything where I’d have to hang on for dear life.

 

I’m not going swimming with dolphins,

Or any creatures that live in the sea.

Leave them all to their watery habitat,

Because it’ll never be of interest to me.

 

There’s no time to learn Chinese,

Or Serbo-Croat, that’s what I’ve thought,

Or Russian, Mongolian, Urdu or Swahili –

In fact - let’s face it – life’s just too short! 

 

And don’t ask me to keep chickens,

Goats & sheep hold no interest I confess,

I couldn’t be bothered with bees or with pigs,

And I’d refuse to clean up all of their mess.

 

I won’t ever be a space tourist,

Nor take a personal trip to the Moon.

It’s easier to stay back here on Earth,

Than make it to Mars anytime soon.

 

I refuse to ever eat in McDonalds or at Nando’s,

And to KFC I’ve always said nay.

I’ve so far managed to avoid food poisoning,

And I’d like to keep it that way!

 

So forgive me if I don’t want to climb Everest,

And avoid all of this other craziness.

Give me a break for the time I’ve got left,

And indulge me this life of laziness.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 23rd May 2021

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 23^rd 2021 

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:                                              

1.      D-Town was dealt a further blow to its civic pride last night in the Wiltsovision Song Contest, held in the back room of a seedy pub in the outer reaches of the Chippenham Desolation Zone.  Scoring a record nil points for the forty-seventh consecutive year, the promoters admitted that we might just need to up our game slightly.  In fact the song, delivered by local D-Town favourite Des Perrate, was considered to be so poor that we were lucky to score even zero.  Even the entry by the local Pro-Israeli rap-group Smash Palestine To Bits managed to score more points, in what many consider to be simply a popularity contest.  No music was used in the making of this contest. 

2.      The confusion over the Council’s different advisory colour bandings for travel outside of the borough continues.  Following the previously simple, if occasionally misunderstood, red/amber/ green system, the new 47-shades of confusion guidance is bewildering.  The magenta-band boroughs can only be visited on Wednesday afternoons, and following a successful test for standing on one leg for two minutes.  The light-brown band boroughs, on the other hand, relate to alternating Tuesdays, and require visitors to recite the alphabet backwards three times without error.  Otherwise 5 days’ quarantine is required, but only if there is a “y” in the name of the day. 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

My Headstone

 

My Headstone

I want to get my two penny-worth in before some other bastard decides what to write!

 

RIP ANDY FAWTHROP

 

Here lies Andy Fawthrop

Please inform his next-of-kin

He wasn’t up to much in life

But his mortal bones lie herein

 

Whilst he lived, he made mistakes

Went from blunder to blunder

But now his mortal course is run

And he’s lying six feet under

 

He was an avid organ donor

Of his eyes and kidneys now bereft

Gave his heart, his lungs and liver

So we could only bury what was left

 

 

3/3/1955 - ?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

 

 

Pies & Perspiration

Pies & Perspiration

Trailing rucksacks and water-bottles

They wander exhausted into the pub

Give their aching backs a solid stretch

And their cramping calves a gentle rub

 

They’re thirsty and they’re starving

So they can’t believe their eyes

When behind the bar they notice

A heated cabinet full of tasty pies

 

Drinks are bought and drunk

Then gratefully they take a seat

Grabbing cutlery and sauces

And hungrily they set to eat

 

It’s been a long walk getting here

Glad to have reached this town

Now the pastry crumbles as the knives go in

And the fillings soon wolfed down

 

The ramblers treat themselves to rest

Perspiration cooling on their brows

Soon they’ll be feeling sleepy

Their bodies hard to rouse

 

The room takes on a strange aroma

At first it seems to be the walkers’ desperation

But then I realise it’s more mundane -

Just a heady mix of pies and perspiration

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Salmon & Leek Lasagne

Recipe for: SALMON & LEEK LASAGNE 

Ingredients: 

• 2 tblsp sunflower oil
• 1 medium onion, finely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, peeled & finely chopped
• 2-3 large salmon fillets
• 2-3 leeks, trimmed, washed & finely chopped
• Salt & pepper to taste
• 12 sheets oven-ready lasagne
• 50g/ 2 oz parmesan cheese, grated
• For the cheese sauce:
• 75g/ 3 oz butter
• 75g/ 3 oz plain flour
• 800ml/ 1½ pints milk
• Grated nutmeg
• 50g/ 2 oz cheddar cheese, grated 

Method: 

1. butter a 3-litre/ 5pt ovenproof dish
2. Steam or bake the salmon fillets for 7-8 minutes
3. remove from the heat & allow to cool
4. when cool enough to handle, flake gently with a fork, discarding any skin & bones.  Set aside
5. heat oil in a large pan & fry the onion and leeks & garlic for 4-5 minutes
6. meanwhile make the cheese sauce
7. melt the butter in a saucepan, add the flour to make a roux & stir constantly for 1 minute
8. gradually add the milk, stirring constantly
9. bring almost to the boil, until the sauce thickens
10. remove from the heat, then add the cheese, stirring until melted
11. heat the oven to 180C/ fan 160C/ gas 4
12. in the buttered dish, spread a very thin line of cheese sauce on the base
13. cover with 4 sheets of dried lasagne, cutting to shape/ size
14. cover with a layer of the flaked salmon & cooked leeks/ onions, then about a third of the cheese sauce
15. cover with another layer of dried lasagne sheets, then salmon/ leeks, cheese sauce
16. finish with a layer of lasagne sheets, topping with the last of the cheese sauce
17. sprinkle the top with the grated parmesan
18. bake in the oven for about 45 minutes, until the sauces are bubbling up at the edges & the top is golden brown 

LIttle Fairy Circles

Little Fairy Circles

Each and every morning

As I make my way across The Green

I realise that they’ve been here again

Leaving their traces to be seen

 

Perfect twinkling circles

That hadn’t been there the night before

Catching the early morning sunshine

I wonder what they’re lying here for

 

Pizza boxes, cans and bottles

As far as the eye can see

Evidence that they walked amongst us

Arranged in perfect symmetry

 

What are they trying to tell us?

What strange message from the gods?

Or is it just untidy bloody teenagers

And other messy little sods?

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Beware - Heavy Plant Crossing

Beware – Heavy Plant Crossing 

“Beware - Heavy Plant Crossing”

Is one of the oddest notices I’ve found

I see it in the strangest of places

Sometimes when I’m driving around

 

I wonder what it might refer to

A phenomenon completely new

What evasive action I should take

Or what it is I’m supposed to do

 

I have visions of an overweight bush

That’s been stuffing itself on burgers and cheese

With a too-large a Body Mass Index

That’s become clinically obese

 

Or the lead singer of Led Zeppelin

Robert, or Percy, as he was known

Who’s relapsed into a life of indolence

And whose body has obscenely grown?

 

But the comfort I take in these situations

Even though I don’t know what I’d do

Is that I’ve never once seen such plants

So I’m wondering – have you?

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Red Squirrels Drive Slowly

Red Squirrels Drive Slowly 

Red Squirrels Drive Slowly

Said the notice at the side of the road

But I feel it’s completely obvious

Why they can’t follow the Highway Code

 

If you give the slightest thought to it

It’s hardly a very big deal

After all - their hands are so tiny

I’m amazed they can even get hold of the wheel

 

Nor is their failure to get up much of a speed

Hardly going to win any medals

Clearly their legs are far too short

So they can’t stretch as far as the pedals

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 16rh May 2021

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 16^th May 2021 

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:                                              

1.      The population of D-Town is in a state of high excitement as it anticipates the next stage of lifting of Covid restrictions tomorrow.  As hugging will now be allowed, people are bracing themselves for increased unwelcome attentions from friends & acquaintances. In the coming weeks more intimate activities will be permitted between consenting adults – frigging from 24^th May, jigging from 31^st May, and full-scale buggering from 7^th June. 

2.      And police were called to keep order last night as fighting broke out in the pavement queue forming to await the open of Wetherspoons on Monday.  The hopeless, the feckless, the homeless, people with social problems & learning difficulties and some of the dregs of society who were forming the queue indulged in scuffles.  ‘It’s good to see some of our loyal customers so keen to get back inside,’ commented a Wetherspoons spoke-bot.  ‘And it’s good that already they are forming a queue to reach our difficult-to-access toilets.’ 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

Ooh Matron! - What A Carry On

Ooh Matron! – What A Carry On

Don’t you bandy words with me, my friend

Nor act the goat like some silly-billy

Use the proper language like you ought to

Not all over the place, all willy-nilly

 

Let’s talk about the undiscussable

A subject that’ll make you very jumpy -

How’s Your Father, Hanky-Panky

Yes - I mean slap-and-tickle, a bit of Rumpy-Pumpy

 

So let us not delay nor shilly-shally,

But use these euphemisms to be witty

So that when we get down to the jiggy-jiggy

We’re not being coy, but near the nitty-gritty

 

Some people fancy a Yummy Mummy

And say so when they’re feeling flirty

But what about a Sweaty Betty, Busty Dusty,

Frilly Jilly, Bendy Wendy or a Dirty Gertie?

 

See - it’s all about the way you were brought up

And the cloth from which you were cut

Never be afraid to mention the unmentionable

After all – it’s just good old honest smut!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Three Tampons

Three Tampons

I was clearing out the cupboard yesterday

When I found the small green rucksack

The one we used to take when we went out walking

The one I kept when we went our separate ways

And I thought that I would use it once again

So I cleaned it up, and cleared it out

And there inside, within the hidden inner pocket,

I found three tampons that you must have packed

One time, long ago, in case of any accident

Not to be caught short, bleeding, in the countryside

And it made me think how time soon slips by

How easily we forget things, the provisions we once made,

How things that we expected do not come to pass

And how simply one can throw things in the trash

And start again without a second thought

A fresh period in one’s life

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Fast Fruit Chocolate Pots

Recipe for: FAST FRUIT CHOCOLATE POTS 

Ingredients: 

• 50g/ 2oz dark chocolate, broken into small pieces
• 250g mascarpone cheese
• 2 tsps orange zest
• Fresh fruit/ berries/ compote (e.g. cherries, blackberries, currants)
• Shortbread fingers (to serve) 

Method: 

1. melt the chocolate in a small bowl over a pan of hot water
2. cool slightly
3. in a bowl, stir the chocolate into the mascarpone and add the orange zest
4. spoon into small pots and chill
5. when ready to serve, top with the prepared fruit/ compote
6. serve with the shortbread fingers 

What else you need to know: 

1. this is SOOOOO simple to do!
2. any fruit will do, but something soft with juice works best

 

Early Sunday Morning

Early Sunday Morning

There across the ghostly Green

Morning mist lies damp, dark steaming

The listless perambulation of gulls

Herring, Common, Black-headed

The Crammer lies still and glassy-eyed

Its pond-side bad-tempered swans

Honking ducks, and soot-black rooks

Hunker down amongst the grass

And in the children’s playground

Moisture drips from coloured climbing frames

Its roundabouts and slides abandoned

Till the sun has further risen

Spreading grudging light and warmth

And then, of a sudden, a tumbling peal of bells

A pattern oft-repeated

Carried from St James’ tower

Booming through the stillness

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Midnight Riders

Midnight Riders

The gentle swishing of the rubber on the road

With whirring wheels and gears well-oiled

Reduced to almost stealthy silence

Sudden dashing apparitions

Cycles swift looming from the shadows

Sweeping across the empty car parks

The wrong way down the one-way streets

Along the forbidden pavements

Through the empty market place

No hands and leaning back

High up in the saddle

And the occasional wheelie

Just because they can

No lights or identifying marks

Darkened clothing

Caps and hoodies

Goggles and scarves

To cover up their faces

Leaving only slits of hungry eyes

Like wind-bitten Wild West horsemen

Or hyenas creeping in among the houses

Under cover of the darkness

The menacing forms of phantoms

Or ghostly insubstantial wraiths

Fast-prowling round the town

To occupy the territory of the night

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Damaged

Damaged 

First thing, beside the Costa on the corner

Serving up skinny lattes and complex cappuccinos

Steamed and foaming milk

And convivial warmth of cakes and coffees

Lies a man wrapped up in dirty blankets

Lifted from the pavement by a doorway step

 

His tousled unkempt hair

Sits atop a tired grubby face

His dreaming dog asleep beside him

His begging hat but thinly graced by coins

When two acquaintances appear from round the corner

And badger him back to unwanted wakefulness

 

Disappearing down the alleyway

They re-emerge shambling and refreshed

Eyes like shining diamonds

Perfect pinpricks of concentration

Mumbling something incoherent

Hands and arms working slowly

To counteract the shivering

 

Poundland and the betting joints

The amusement arcades and the charity shops

Are early thronged with needy punters

And the Closing Down Sale signs flutter in the breeze

A metro-bus signed Sorry Not In Service

Sweeps past the standing shoppers

The crossing’s red light warning not to walk

 

Across the street a woman calls out

Loudly coarse and raucous

Addressing no-one in particular

Wrapped within a world of her own making

Hauling bulging bags of clothing

And dragging a broken shopping cart

With its insistent squeaky wheel

Crying out across the morning

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 9th May 2021

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 9^th May 2021 

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:                                              

1.      Diplomatic tensions were at an all-time high mid-week when the Council despatched a pair of armed fishery protection vessels down the K&A canal, through the Caen Hill flight in order to warn off a bloke from The Sham who was fishing without a permit near Martinslade.  As it took the boats nearly four hours to negotiate the locks, the errant angler saw them coming and packed up his gear and left before they could reach him.  He has been warned, however, not to attempt to land any of his catch in the D-Town fish market. 

2.      And Thursday saw voters in the borough turn out in their tens.  Some of them even bothered to vote.  As D-Town has a reputation of being Tory Central, those of a rightist persuasion didn’t do very much campaigning.  In fact a soiled nappy, wrapped with a blue ribbon, was elected to one of the Council wards.  Whilst bemoaning the fact that the electorate always votes blue, the Labour spokesman was quoted as saying “it could have been worse – at least we don’t have to live in Hartlepool”. 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

 

Castle

Castle

That sound, that moment

When wood closes softly against wood

And the metal parts quietly touch each other

The satisfying click of engagement

A door that perfectly fits the frame

A latch that catches

A key that turns

A bolt that’s thrown

A curtain that’s drawn

A closing-in and a shutting-out

An exclusion of all the outside

The cold, the air, the weather,

Them, and the rest of the world

 

A feeling of coming home

Of safety and security

Returning to the roost

The familiar smells of cooking and washing

Of carpets and of furniture

The soothing quietness of rooms

Calm domestic spaces

Looking as if only lately left deserted

Still there and undisturbed

The warmth of shadows

And the ticking of the clock

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021

Position Closed - Cashier Balancing

Position Closed – Cashier Balancing

Another from the “Bewildering Signs” collection.  Previous examples were:

·        This Toilet is Out Of Order

·        Do Not Worry Livestock

·        Casual Bearers Wanted

·        This Door Is Alarmed

 

Whilst waiting in the bank the other day

I noticed that things were exceedingly slow

That the number of people had started to grow

Only two cashiers open – what do you know?

Their automated facilities I’d chosen to eschew

So the time I was spending I’d started to rue

And, as I stood there in the lengthening queue,

I wondered what else I could do

In a chair at the side an old lady dozed

Slowly to the front my position had nosed

And I saw that there a notice had been posed

On the third cashier’s till – Position Closed!

The reason given was what puzzled me

“Cashier Balancing” but it was easy to see

She was sitting down – how hard could it be?

 

But I had a vision that amongst the cash and receipts

She was secretly practising great feats

That she was only pretending to be in her seat

And that really she was a talented athlete

That, if she hadn’t maintained an even keel,

She’d soon be attempting a cart-wheel

Or perhaps she was a prancer, or a chancer

Disguising her skill as a ballet dancer

That, operating without the aid of a safety-net

There were tricky positions into which she could get

Including that of a pirouette

That she practised with her legs as she sat

Her various manoeuvres as an acrobat

Perhaps she would glimmer and shimmer

When working as a synchronised swimmer

Or maybe she was cast, while working really fast

If she ever appeared as a gymnast

 

And, as she pretended to work at her station,

I wanted to award marks for “Degree of Difficulty”

Or even for “Artistic Interpretation”

For I’m sure that mere double-entry book-keeping

Sometimes must have reduced her to weeping

And, not wanting to appear dumb,

She extracted every last crumb

Of comfort, whilst she sat on her bum,

Not letting her body grow numb

But maintaining her equilibrium

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2021