Wednesday, 31 March 2010
On the Way Oot
I`m an orphan, an empty nester,
a menopausal mobster
I get murderous when I clean
The oven, the duvet and the toaster
I clean my teeth
They`re still yella
No chance I`ll get a fella
Unless I go to singles nights
Where I`ll meet the creeps
And the clever shites
I get to the top of the stair
I forget why I`m there
I lock the door
Go down the street
Takes me half an hour
Gassing to the folks I meet
Then I think, Did I shut the door
Best go back to check some more
Did I tell you I`m an orphan
An empty nester
A menopausal mobster
......Have I said this before
I`d best go and check that door.
This one will be included in the new Pinklane Poetry and Performance book due out soon.
I just love to watch the clips of people on the Anthony Gormley plinth. My favourite is the guy dancing to Pokerface by Lady Ga Ga. Love his style. When he comments that the street is completely empty "And it`s NOT because of my dancing!!" Keep gannin kidda you`re a diamond.
Visiting Des today to take him a disc of his 90th party then on to town for a coffee. I should be at home today making an easter bonnet for the competition at the club tomorrow but D is out on a works leaving do "I wish it was me" I`ve heard him mutter more than six times, poor bugger. Says me who is doing as she pleases. I have a huge white affair from Matalan for £5 which I intend to spend tonight painting with gouache and then plastering it with flowers and little chicken. I know, not very original, but I haven`t had time, too busy holding interview word checks with the contributors and making my pair of parrots for the arc project. I have the wings on one bird but they are both minus legs. They are so top heavy that I will have problems getting them to stand. I have three options
1 Tell the others that the birds heave eaten windfall apples and are drunk
2 Make a plaited felt nest
3 Hunt the woods for an appropriately sized branch
Or...I could blame the menopause and say I forgot.