Strike! Poem by David Lewis Paget

I'll admit I was running late that day,
Back home from the trailer park,
It was cold and wet in the alleyway
As I made my way in the dark,
My wife had run off with the milkman
Left me caring for two young boys,
They were at that age - you know the one,
Where they scatter the house with toys!

The hall was lying in darkness, but
I could hear them, back in the house,
Their voices raised in an argument,
The why's and the where's, and how's,
I walked on into the kitchen, then
And stood stock still at the door,
If I hadn't been self-possessed that day
My jaw would have hit the floor!

‘Okay, fess up! Who brought it home? '
But Tim just gave me a scowl,
‘It's mine, but Robbie's a sookie moan! '
Then Robert began to howl;
‘It isn't fair, it's always the best
That he gets, it's never enough! '
‘I thought they were fixed, ' said Tim at last,
‘But his must have fallen off! '

I looked at the head on the table, it
Was fixed with a crooked grin,
There wasn't a sign of blood on it,
And it had a wax-like skin,
‘Are you sure it's real? ' I reached on out
To poke it, there on the cheek,
But the eyelids flew wide open, stared,
And my heart - it stopped for a week!

‘I found it out in a puddle, in
The alleyway out the back,
I picked it up and I brought it home
Tucked into my haversack.'
I sat them down and I pointed out
That we couldn't go keeping heads,
As the sweat broke out on my brow to think
Just what I'd say to the Feds!

Their mother rang, she was on her way
To collect some more of her stuff,
I freaked, and hurried the boys away,
And I got them cleaning up,
I swore them both to a pact with me,
They mustn't whisper a thing,
For mothers are pretty touchy, see,
When they take off that wedding ring!

I took the head, had put it away
By the time that she rang the bell,
The Milkman lurked in the alleyway,
For him, it was just as well;
She took her clothes and the bowling bag,
They were off to the Ten Pin Bowl,
I mused, were the nostrils flared enough
To pass for a ten pound ball!

13 August 2012