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Selected Poems

Page 4

by Harrison, Tony


  Railroad North from London up to Worstedopolis.

  Britannia, Old Mother Riley, bending down to pray,

  The railway line’s the X-Ray of her twisted vertebrae.

  I’m watching England rolling by; here a startled grouse

  Shoots out from a siding, and there Sabbath-idle ploughs

  Clogged in soggy furrows are seizing up with rain.

  Life’s either still or scurrying away from the train.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, perhaps the train’ll crash.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, Doctor Adgie, there’s a rash

  The shape of bloody Britain and it’s starting to spread.

  My belly’s like a blow-up globe all blotched with Empire red.

  Chancres, chancres, Shetlands, spots, boils, Hebrides,

  Atlasitis, Atlasitis, British Isles Disease!

  The rot sets in at Retford and the stations beyond;

  Coffles of coupled, rusty coaltrucks chalkmarked COND.

  But at each abandoned station shunned like a suicide

  There’s that loveliest of flourishers, the purple London Pride.

  Though why the ‘proud’ metropolis should monopolize weeds

  Beats me, when we’ve got millions more all over mucky Leeds,

  Springing up wherever life is teetering on the brink

  Like pensioned-off yours truly’s pickled in his drink.

  With a bit of help off Bitter, I can do it on my own.

  They can stuff their pink Somalgins and their Phenobarbitone,

  O those lovely bubs that almost touched black chin and shiny knees,

  Leaping up and down to drumming like hoop-jumping Pekinese!

  Ay, it’s a pity all that’s over. From now on every night

  It’s Whatsoever Thy Hand Findeth To Do, Do It With Thy Might.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, perhaps the train’ll crash.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, Doctor Adgie, there’s a rash

  The shape of bloody Britain and it’s starting to spread.

  My belly’s like a blow-up globe all blotched with Empire red.

  Chancres, chancres, Shetlands, spots, boils, Hebrides,

  Atlasitis, Atlasitis, British Isles Disease.

  Veni, vidi, vici, Death’s cackling in my ear.

  And there he is a Caesar with an earth-caked Roman spear.

  Queer sorts of dozes these are, where I’m nodding off to dream

  Of being chased by Caesars and I wake up with a scream.

  Must be that pork-pie I’ve eaten or the British Railways Ale.

  Night behind the window. My coaster’s tan gone deathly pale.

  It’s me! It’s me the fauna’s fleeing. Nothing’ll keep still.

  My adrenalin moves Nature now and not God’s heavenly will.

  Lean closer as the darkness grows. My vision’s fogged by breath

  Clouding up the window as life’s clouded up by death.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, perhaps the train’ll crash

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, Doctor Adgie, there’s a rash

  The shape of bloody Britain and it’s starting to spread.

  My belly’s like a blow-up globe all blotched with Empire red.

  Chancres, chancres, Shetlands, spots, boils, Hebrides,

  Atlasitis, Atlasitis, British Isles Disease.

  Death’s chuntered in my ear-hole since I was thirty five,

  And I’ve guffawed at his stories but I’ve kept myself alive

  Long enough to get fed up of the same old, worn-out joke.

  Death, piss off, you shaggy dog, you proper natterpoke!

  Nay! Come on, Julius Seizure, you black, buck bastard come.

  I can hear those muffled heartbeats like a Yoruba drum.

  And see the curving shadow of the sinister drumstick,

  A bit of whittling that depicts an old man’s drooping prick,

  Poised above the tautened heart, on the point of being played,

  Just once, just once, and then I join the goners’ masquerade.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, anxious, perhaps the train’ll crash.

  Anxious, anxious, anxious, Doctor Adgie, there’s a rash

  The shape of bloody Britain and it’s starting to spread.

  My belly’s like a blow-up globe all blotched with Empire red.

  Chancres, chancres, Shetlands, spots, boils, Hebrides,

  Atlasitis, Atlasitis, British Isles Disease.

  My transparent head and shoulders ringed with reading lights

  Goes sliding over hillsides, graveyards, demolition sites.

  I’m a sort of setting sun, all my light drawn in to shed

  Only darkness on the living, only darkness on the dead.

  Life the bright compartment between dark cattle trucks

  Concertinaed in the crush like a bug between two books.

  Night and silence, and the Scotsman rushing, second

  Coupled to anxious, anxious SEcond … COND … COND … COND …

  Schwiegermutterlieder

  I

  Mother and daughter German refugees

  were not much wanted in nineteen

  forty five. She had to skivvy for rich Jews

  in Manchester’s posh ‘Palestine’.

  I never really could believe

  her story of your being thrown out

  by some, one snowy Christmas Eve,

  for having real wax candles on your conifer,

  their children shouting: Kraut! Kraut!

  until she brought the tea-chests out of store.

  Then I saw the hotel towels, the stolen

  London café spoons,

  bits of half-eaten Stollen,

  casserole and cooking pans

  packed hot from the oven.

  Kleptomaniac,

  dear Schwiegermutter,

  did you have to pack

  a lb Kosher butter?

  I’ve seen her waltz

  off with rare, bright plants she’s pinched

  from Kew, but the good bed-linen

  was her own, brought bunched

  up in bundles from Berlin,

  embroidered: Mein Heim ist Mein Stolz.

  After 13 years she fished

  out her treasures; none any use.

  She gave us a perished

  red-rubber douche.

  II

  After the wedding she insisted on

  a head-and-shoulders photograph that just

  got her real violets on your breast

  but not your belly in.

  She sang and spun round in a raven

  black, hook-buttoned waitress dress.

  She was in some sort of heaven,

  Viennese with happiness,

  her arms round everybody’s neck,

  warbling from pre-war musicals,

  and Rů-, Rů-, Růženka Maria, your name in Czech,

  with cracked ecstatic trills. –

  But dying uncle Bertolt

  made his ’14–18 amputation tender

  by stamping his tin foot, when he was told

  you’d married an Engländer.

  III

  Else Crossfield, Dietzsch,

  née Schubert – British bitch!

  The Curtain Catullus

  ‘Frontiers oppress me … I want to wander as much as I like … to talk, even in a broken language, with everybody.’

  (Yevtushenko, 1958)

  Your fat, failed ballet dancer’s calves

  Bulge left, right, left. I’m out of breath and stop

  To get a peep in at the skirted halves,

  Those pale four inches past the stocking top.

  That sight’s more in my line. I’m not so sold

  On all this Gothic and this old Baroque.

  My fur hat tickles and I’m freezing cold.

  I need a drink, a sit-down and a smoke.

  I speak my one word of your language: thanks!

  Let’s kiss. You laugh a
nd pivot on one toe

  To point out Hus still preaching, Russian tanks,

  And Kafka’s ball-less eyes caked up with snow.

  I glance round for my tail. We met head-on

  In one blind alley, face to face. We grinned

  And nodded and went on. I hope he’s gone.

  He’d shop us if he saw my bourgeois hand

  Slide down the zip-line of your dress and pass

  The vertebrae, your parted Party lips

  Against my lips. Relax! No cause or class

  Can take the pleasure from between your hips.

  Astraea! Stalin’s chocolate-Santa-Claus-

  like statue’s made piecemeal. Descend! Descend!

  We’re human, young, and lustful, sick of wars.

  I want this gorgeous red bird for my friend.

  Descend like a snow maiden from the air.

  Fill Chrysostom’s or Basil’s empty niche,

  Crumple stiff Nelson in Trafalgar Square.

  Hear masses shouting: Goddess! bosses: Bitch!

  We know you foreign Mata Hari whores.

  I’m tired of stone bodies. I want yours.

  Security’s embarrassing, bored noise

  Booms in these cracked cupolas: Avoid,

  Avoid glad eyes, come-hithers, girl’s or boy’s.

  Beware Caucasian and Mongoloid …

  Above all, please remember Gerald Brooke.

  O I could see the flags, red, white and blue,

  And Red struck to half-mast for a fuck

  Between a caught-out couple like us two.

  Your body plumped by bread and dumplings strains

  Against your imitation bearskin as you peer

  Upwards at huge saints, your peach neck cranes

  At some Church soldier launching a gold spear

  Against the Turk. One lurking Infidel

  Is herded by Christ’s army into Hell.

  I’m tired. Natasha! Olga! Masha! Come

  To my bugged bedroom. Leave mausoleum,

  Church, museum be. Leave your clothes there – Cold War

  Bashing its dead torches on our door.

  The Bedbug

  Comrade, with your finger on the playback switch,

  Listen carefully to each love-moan,

  And enter in the file which cry is real, and which

  A mere performance for your microphone.

  Curtain Sonnets

  1. Guava Libre

  for Jane Fonda,

  Leningrad, 1975

  Pickled Gold Coast clitoridectomies?

  Labia minora in formaldehyde?

  A rose pink death mask of a screen cult kiss,

  Marilyn’s mouth or vulva mummified?

  Lips cropped off a poet. That’s more like.

  That’s almost the sort of poet I think I am.

  The lips of Orpheus fished up by a dyke

  singing ‘Women of Cuba Libre and Vietnam!’

  The taste, though, taste! Ah, that could only be

  (‘Women! Women! O abajo men,

  the thought of it’s enough to make you come!’)

  the honeyed yoni of Eurydice

  and I am Orpheus going down again –

  Thanks for the guavas soaked in Cuban rum.

  2. The Viewless Wings

  (Monkwood, Grimley)

  The hungry generations’ new decree

  turns Worcester orchards into fields of sage.

  Tipsy, courtesy cheap wine and EEC,

  I hear, as unaware of ours as Keats’s age,

  the same blithe bird but its old magic fails

  and my longing for you now is just as bad

  at England’s northern edge for nightingales

  as those White Nights last year in Leningrad,

  where, packed for my flight back, thick curtains drawn

  but night too like full day to get much kip,

  I wanted you to watch with me from bed

  that seamless merger of half dusk and dawn,

  AURORA, rosy-fingered kind, and battleship

  whose sudden salvo turned the East half red.

  3. Summer Garden

  Winter false dawns woke me: thud! thud! thud!

  Lorries loaded with chipped ice and not quite four!

  Felt-swathed babushkas stooping to chip more –

  Leningrad’s vast pool of widowhood,

  who also guard the Rembrandts and rank Gents,

  who stand all day with stern unbending gaze

  haloed with Tsars’ crowns and Fabergés,

  their menfolk melted down to monuments.

  It’s their eyes make me shy I’ve fallen for

  a woman who they’d chorus at nyet! nyet!

  and make me edgy walking here with you

  between the statues VERITAS, HONOR,

  and PSYCHE whom strong passion made forget

  conditions of darkness and the gods’ taboo.

  4. The People’s Palace

  Shuffling in felt goloshes saves the floor

  from the unexpected guests of history

  who queue all day to see what once was for

  the fruits of just one bonsai family tree.

  IUSTITIA and POMONA in their crates.

  Come winter and the art, all cordoned off,

  ’s wired to a US import anti-theft device

  and opened only for researching prof.

  and patineur from Academe who skates

  those ballrooms patterned like cracked Baikal ice

  buffing the princely parquets for the few

  who’ll see them reproduced in some review.

  Watch that elegant glissade as he yahoos

  into the soundproof pile of overshoes.

  5. Prague Spring

  on my birthday, 30 April

  A silent scream? The madrigal’s top note?

  Puking his wassail on the listening throng?

  Mouthfuls of cumulus, then cobalt throat.

  Medusa must have hexed him in mid-song.

  The finest vantage point in all of Prague’s

  this gagging gargoyle’s with the stone-locked lute,

  leaning over cherries, blow-ups of Karl Marx

  the pioneers ’ll march past and salute.

  Tomorrow’s May but still a North wind scuffs

  the plated surface like a maced cuirass,

  lays on, lays off, gets purchase on and roughs

  up the Vltava, then makes it glass.

  The last snow of this year’s late slow thaw

  dribbles as spring saliva down his jaw.

  The Nuptial Torches

  ‘These human victims, chained and burning at the stake, were the blazing torches which lighted the monarch to his nuptial couch.’

  (J. L. Motley, The Rise of the Dutch Republic)

  Fish gnaw the Flushing capons, hauled from fleeced

  Lutheran Holland, for tomorrow’s feast.

  The Netherlandish lengths, the Dutch heirlooms,

  That might have graced my movements and my groom’s

  Fade on the fat sea’s bellies where they hung

  Like cover-sluts. Flesh, wet linen wrung

  Bone dry in a washerwoman’s raw, red,

  Twisting hands, bed-clothes off a lovers’ bed,

  Falls off the chains. At Valladolid

  It fell, flesh crumpled like a coverlid.

  Young Carlos de Sessa stripped was good

  For a girl to look at and he spat like wood

  Green from the orchards for the cooking pots.

  Flames ravelled up his flesh into dry knots

  And he cried at the King: How can you stare

  On such agonies and not turn a hair?

  The king was cool: My friend, I’d drag the logs

  Out to the stake for my own son, let dogs

  Get at his testes for his sins; auto-da-fés

  Owe no paternity to evil ways.

  Cabrera leans against the throne, guffaws

  And jots down to the
Court’s applause

  Yet another of the King’s bon mots.

  O yellow piddle in fresh fallen snow –

  Dogs on the Guadarramas … dogs. Their souls

  Splut through their pores like porridge holes.

  They wear their skins like cast-offs. Their skin grows

  Puckered round the knees like rumpled hose.

  Doctor Ponce de la Fuente, you,

  Whose gaudy, straw-stuffed effigy in lieu

  Of members hacked up in the prison, burns

  Here now, one sacking arm drops off, one turns

  A stubble finger and your skull still croons

  Lascivious catches and indecent tunes;

  And croaks: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

  Pray God be with you in your lust.

  And God immediately is, but such a one

  Whose skin stinks like a herring in the sun,

  Huge from confinement in a filthy gaol,

  Crushing the hooping on my farthingale.

  O Holy Mother, Holy Mother, Ho-

  ly Mother Church, whose melodious, low

  Labour-moans go through me as you bear

  These pitch-stained children to the upper air,

  Let them lie still tonight, no crowding smoke

  Condensing back to men float in and poke

  Their charcoaled fingers at our bed, and let

  Me be his pleasure, though Philip sweat

  At his rhythms and use those hateful tricks

  They say he feels like after heretics.

  O let the King be gentle and not loom

  Like Torquemada in the torture room,

  Those wiry Spanish hairs, these nuptial nights,

  Crackling like lit tapers in his tights,

  His seed like water spluttered off hot stone.

  Maria, whose dark eyes very like my own

  Shine on such consummations, Maria bless

  My Philip just this once with gentleness.

  The King’s cool knuckles on my smoky hair!

  Mare Mediterraneum, la mer, la mer

  That almost got him in your gorge with sides

  Of feastmeats, you must flush this scared bride’s

  Uterus with scouring salt. O cure and cool

  The scorching birthmarks of his branding-tool.

  Sweat chills my small breasts and limp hands.

  They curled like foetuses, maman, and cried.

  His crusted tunics crumple as he stands:

  Come, Isabella. God is satisfied.

  Newcastle is Peru

  ‘Correct your maps: Newcastle is Peru!’

 

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