BoySlut

He Said, Sideways, Twice

 

Buttermilk strangers alone in a world of Autumn

caressing the pavement with uneasy stares,

facing the day sideways and aware

of the death within us all.

It’s colour (I’m British) is burgundy

and it laps gently against our tongues

as we try not to speak in rhythms

of anything but passion.

We fail sometimes but fucking hell, we try

and alone I master it: see them fail and pounce,

this world is a background only, I am the magician.

I weave and disappear at will

un-caged and un- harnessed

I am the North side!

you are not alone.

 

© Paul Tristram 2011

 

 

 

Electricity

 

We were having another argument and it was a right fucking beauty!

The last one was so bad that I had taken the house phone out into the back

garden and thrown it into the top pond, then I had grabbed my mobile phone,

taken it out onto the road at the front of the house and thrown it, watching it first

bounce and then shatter into smithereens, whilst thinking to myself

‘That’s £300 I’ve just trashed in less than a minute!’

Then walking back inside the house I proceeded to cut off the plugs to the

computer cables, rendering her vicious emails useless.

But this time (with new phone to my ear!) I was giving it some wellie,

screaming down the phone at her, verbally slicing and tearing back.

This was now my 3^rd house phone that I was on and I was not intending to be

buying a fourth one.                                                                 

The arguing intensified to a crescendo where I was now a screaming lunatic,

completely

 

“Fuck you Bitch, you Cunt, you Dirty, Stinking, Filthy Fucking Piece of Whore Shit!”

 

Boom, 3 light bulbs popped above my head, followed by 4 in the kitchen

ping, ping, ping, ping and then the trip switch went for the entire house.

 

Just after I had put the trip switch back on and I am looking for spare bulbs (which

I didn’t have!) she calls me back, only this time the ‘Cunt’ word has made her flip

she is now a neurotic banshee straight outta Hell and she goes for my jugular.

I retaliate, snapping straight into temper, where I thrust and parry with the force

of an amphetamine-crazed wrecking ball (hey, that’s how I roll!)

Whilst walking through my kitchen I see through the glass oven door of the cooker

a blue flashing light and hear a bang! Jesus, that’s my oven ruined now.

I actually find out a few days later that my washing machine has gone too, blown.

I proceed to then drink myself into unconsciousness, after unplugging the phone

and I awake on the settee  at dawn by the dog whining to go out, I let her out in the

back garden and see 8 of my koi fish floating on top of the water.

‘Fuck it!’ I think to myself I’ll deal with them later.

The last time I split up with a girl I blew a water pipe in the bedroom behind my

wardrobe and soaked all my fucking clothes and gear but it had never effected shit

in the garden before.

I opened a can of beer and the curtains at the front of the house and watched an

ambulance pulling out from the old peoples bungalows opposite, this sometimes

happens but this morning by the time I’d drank 5 cans 2 ambulances have been

and gone.

Not too long later she calls me and says

 

“Baby, I love you, please let’s not fight!”

 

I tell her about the fish and the old people and she says

 

“OMG, that’s terrible, I’ll come around later with some new bulbs and look at the

cooker for you, It sounds like the element, I can fix that if we buy a replacement

part, don’t worry.

But baby, we’ve got to stop fighting, you’re fucking killing fish and old people

now, I bet they had pace-makers fitted, Jesus, I’m glad you don’t use an electric

blanket.

I’ll be over soon, don’t touch the kettle, keep drinking beer until I get there baby!”

 

© Paul Tristram 2013