Friday, 29 March 2013


Blah Blah was twelve again.
He kissed goodbye to Mammy but
Didn’t go to school today.
Went to the railway bridge instead.
Saluted the driver who looked like a lego.
Spat over the bridge onto the train.
Thought of his mothers’ stories
With tenses for the dark people
Whose faces you never saw but who dropped through the road, turning away,
When you dared speak to them, because they were dead, and distant.
So he ate his sandwich and two crab apples which made his belly a bit sore.
Saw a dead fox half in the well and felt a bit sick.
Wow is a girl in a vague and startled face
Smelling nice and only slightly,
With an uncle who buckled his belt near his tie. Turf tomorrow.

Later Blah Blah lost a ball in a game in a town
While playing with some fork-tongued children.
Greyed with some wife.
Laid with himself.
His ears grew hair.
So he blessed himself with mellow and mass.

Later Blah Blah went a little blind, spat politically, vomited religiously.
Recalled old headbutts.    
Put in his tongue and put out his palm and his tongue again.
Might have met a stroke, or two.
Might have met a whore, or two.
Might have met a smile, or two.
He wouldn’t tell you.

Because you see his face was kind and tricky.
Had a really good rosary and wore it well.
Dropped his head to the side.
Wet himself with eloquence.  
Or mixed them all up with the Ukrainian nurse
Who helped him to sleep sometimes.

Finally Blah Blah couldn’t be sure which part dropped off first.
Because when he looked down his belly looked back.
Eventually Blah Blah pulled up his pants and screamed
All the way home to Mammy.
Blah Blah was twelve again.

©Noel Loftus

Noel Loftus is a member of ward9writers based in Mayo and enjoys very short bursts of inspiration tempered by long periods of work.