James Joyce Was A Pussy. Poem by Neil Gray

'James Joyce was a pussy' I tell him.

His face reddens,
his blood pressure sour's
and he looks at me
as if I'd told him
that I'd just fucked his Gran.

'HOW DARE YOU! ! ! ! ' he screams at me
'YOU'RE NOT EVEN FIT
TO LACE THE GREAT MAN'S SHOES! ! ! '

'Maybe so' I grin
'But he was still a pussy.'

It had started out
like most of these night's do
with me being dragged
to a 'poet's' gathering.

'Pleeeeease baby' she'd whined
'You'll really like it,
their really great people
and their intellect's
are second to none'.

I should've warned her,
I'm not a people person.

You can count the
amount of friends
I have on one hand
and still have fingers spare
to scratch yourself.

But whenever I do
tell them they never
believe me
and you know what
they say about
action's and word's.

3 hours later
and I'm 4 bottles in,
sat in some bar
listening as they
tell me how great
their work is
and how they
just aren't appreciated
and never will be
in their own time.

Blah, blah, blah...

And then it happens.

'You know' he say's
'I have been compared,
on more than one occassion,
to James Joyce'

I take aim
and fire.

Direct hit.

The place decend's
into chaos.

Raised voices.

Threat's of violence.

I'm pretty sure,
at some point,
he may
have even
challenged me to
a duel.

And there I am
smiling away to myself
happy in the knowledge
of a job
well
done.

The next day
I'm sat with Steve
recounting my tale
and when the laughter
finally dies
he turns to me and say's

'But you like Joyce'

'I know' I said
'I think
he'd appreciate
the irony.'