Burnt Offerings

[Guest]

[Pater]

Summer, oh yeah, and in urban myths
all the beached whales come out and lay
in the gardens of houses back-to-back,
side-by-side, and the kids chuckle the day
down grotesquely-coloured plastic slides.
While the middle-class fatsos entitle themselves
to Rick Astley and Kylie and boom boom bump
from way back then; infecting the air that I breathe.
 
I hate all this, the barbecued shit
when twilight calls, the drunken phase
when bollocks hang out of Bermuda shorts,
stick to those white chairs, the stupid chit-chat.
The sea cows comparing tanned thighs,
the price of cellulite these days, the nation's health.
The bursts of laughter as the night comes in, the hum
of food on the smoke in the air; give me the peace
of winter, smoking my roll-up at my back door.
In the early hours when these Big-I-ams sleep.

by Pater
 
 
 

[Jay]

Was this written with an impending bank holiday in mind? I think you border on cruelty at times

when bollocks hang out of Bermuda shorts,
stick to those white chairs, the stupid chit-chat.
The sea cows comparing tanned thighs,

and the anger detracts from the quality of your description. But I like the way this closes down, how effective the contrast is between their noise and your peace and silence, segued into under the banner of twilight.

The bursts of laughter as the night comes in, the hum
of food on the smoke in the air; give me the peace
of winter, smoking my roll-up at my back door.

[Pater]

Was this written with an impending bank holiday in mind? I think you border on cruelty at times

Hm, well, round this neck o' the woods you don't need a bank holiday to justify a barbecue - I've seen some persist in the rain with one. That is, it's raining when they start.
Anddd, once one does this there's a chain reaction of; smoke, loud numbskull SAW music, and all the other ingredients I speak about. A block of 3 or 4 houses all trying to outdo each other with them cheap Co-op barbecue kits.
Cruel, you say? I'll give you cruel. I wish they'd barbecue all the cats they have to stop them shitting in my garden. Oh, yessum.

when bollocks hang out of Bermuda shorts,
stick to those white chairs, the stupid chit-chat.
The sea cows comparing tanned thighs,

and the anger detracts from the quality of your description. But I like the way this closes down, how effective the contrast is between their noise and your peace and silence, segued into under the banner of twilight.

What's a bit of anger between friends, Jay? And they ARE friends of mine (well, as far as the principle of "civility costs you nowt" and neighbourliness I believe in goes). I just wish they take off into outer space sometimes.
I mean to say, one of 'em has six, yes, SIX dogs (including a large boxer and a St. Bernard) runnin' amok in a back garden without enough room to swing one of the others' cats in.

The bursts of laughter as the night comes in, the hum
of food on the smoke in the air; give me the peace
of winter, smoking my roll-up at my back door.

Cheers for the comments, Jay. Insightful as ever. Peter...