I’m not going to offend your intellect
by pointing out that this doesn’t rhyme.
(I’m not running a leaky-boat hire company here)
I’m not gonna say that it’s because
it doesn’t fit into a formal meter.
This poem is bad because
I am not a poet
and I don’t even like poetry
I’ve had this idea see?
- and I don’t even have the will to see it through.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Jack Hill
"So which version of you am I am experiencing at the moment?"
I shrug. "It's not like I'm really trying to fuck with people's heads?"
"And what does the young lady that you live with think about this?
"Which one? The real one or the fictional one?"
He takes a sip of his beer. "That's the point isn't it?"
"Maybe." I look at him. "So did you enjoy it today?"
"The lesson?"
"Yeah. I think it was better than last weeks'. I really hate teaching poetry."
"People seemed to enjoy it."
"Yeah," we finish our drinks.
"Best go," he says.
I pick up my bag. "Yeah, me too." We say our goodbyes and leave separately. In the car I phone home and tell them I'll be a while. Then I set off. The roads are pretty quiet and I get out of Ilkley in no time. Take the main road to Otley and then turn left when i get to the town centre then take the road through Farnley and up Jack Hill and over the top. There's a few different ways to go and they're all pretty much the same. You end up going past Little Armscliffe this way but it's a bit of a drag up the hill. When I leave Otley I notice that the petrol tank's pretty empty. Enough to get me home but it's on red. Half-way up Jack Hill my engine stalls. I apply the handbreak etc. Basically, I don't know how it works but it's like there's not enough petrol in the tank and it's not leaving the tank because the car's on the hill. I get out of the car. Across the valley you can see the lights of Otley or somewhere. I sit on the wall and watch them. A car drives past but I don't get up. It doesn't stop. Then there's a noise in the tree above me and an owl flies takes off past me and flies low over the field. There's another noise and I look up and there's a teenage boy sitting in the tree with one of those hawking gloves on.
He nods at me. "Alright."
I nod. "Is that your owl?"
"Yeah."
"I wish I had an owl."
"It's not that good," he says. "You gotta take them out every night to catch their dinner. It's worse than having a dog."
"Can't you just feed them earlier?"
He shakes his head. "Doesn't work like that."
"Oh." I look at him. "CanI have a go?"
"Doesn't like strangers."
"Ok."
"What you doing here?"
"Car's stuck."
"No petrol?"
"I think it's the hill."
"Just go back down. Go fill up in Pool."
I look at him but he looks away and whilstles. The owl comes swooping out the dark and lands on the glove. It's got a mouse in its talon.
"Need a hand?" he says.
"Should be alright."
"Good," he says. "It's not so easy pushing a car with an owl on your hand."
"Probably not." I get back in the car and roll it backwards and round. The I head off back down towards Pool
Route shown here.
I shrug. "It's not like I'm really trying to fuck with people's heads?"
"And what does the young lady that you live with think about this?
"Which one? The real one or the fictional one?"
He takes a sip of his beer. "That's the point isn't it?"
"Maybe." I look at him. "So did you enjoy it today?"
"The lesson?"
"Yeah. I think it was better than last weeks'. I really hate teaching poetry."
"People seemed to enjoy it."
"Yeah," we finish our drinks.
"Best go," he says.
I pick up my bag. "Yeah, me too." We say our goodbyes and leave separately. In the car I phone home and tell them I'll be a while. Then I set off. The roads are pretty quiet and I get out of Ilkley in no time. Take the main road to Otley and then turn left when i get to the town centre then take the road through Farnley and up Jack Hill and over the top. There's a few different ways to go and they're all pretty much the same. You end up going past Little Armscliffe this way but it's a bit of a drag up the hill. When I leave Otley I notice that the petrol tank's pretty empty. Enough to get me home but it's on red. Half-way up Jack Hill my engine stalls. I apply the handbreak etc. Basically, I don't know how it works but it's like there's not enough petrol in the tank and it's not leaving the tank because the car's on the hill. I get out of the car. Across the valley you can see the lights of Otley or somewhere. I sit on the wall and watch them. A car drives past but I don't get up. It doesn't stop. Then there's a noise in the tree above me and an owl flies takes off past me and flies low over the field. There's another noise and I look up and there's a teenage boy sitting in the tree with one of those hawking gloves on.
He nods at me. "Alright."
I nod. "Is that your owl?"
"Yeah."
"I wish I had an owl."
"It's not that good," he says. "You gotta take them out every night to catch their dinner. It's worse than having a dog."
"Can't you just feed them earlier?"
He shakes his head. "Doesn't work like that."
"Oh." I look at him. "CanI have a go?"
"Doesn't like strangers."
"Ok."
"What you doing here?"
"Car's stuck."
"No petrol?"
"I think it's the hill."
"Just go back down. Go fill up in Pool."
I look at him but he looks away and whilstles. The owl comes swooping out the dark and lands on the glove. It's got a mouse in its talon.
"Need a hand?" he says.
"Should be alright."
"Good," he says. "It's not so easy pushing a car with an owl on your hand."
"Probably not." I get back in the car and roll it backwards and round. The I head off back down towards Pool
Route shown here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
