That the pickup truck was

A hearse for dead lampposts

Came as something of a surprise


Morticians in high visibility overalls

Singing lewd songs and showing

Scant regard and no respect for the

Deceased Victorian cast iron lampposts

Told him it mattered not for

They were planting new ones

More in keeping with the 21st Century

Albeit that these replacement ones

Once fully grown would have a

Retro Art Deco look about them

Would be made of sterling silver

Solar powered and have blazing

Spheroids atop, also there would

Be no requiem for the dead ones


He watched from his study window

Distracted, intrigued, even put

His diffraction analysis on hold

Watching the men sow the seeds

Waiting for the new lampposts to

Take root and flourish, wondered

Should he water them? Best not


Day turned to night; no sign of growth

No illumination still; on old Back Lane

It was thus he took to his bed


A creature of habit he rose early

Before dawns first light, as

A child to Christmas morn

Could not contain himself

Rushed to window and yes

The seeds had come to fruition

A veritable palisade of lampposts

Radiating glistening fluorescence

Grand columns in keeping with

The leafy hedgerow backwater

Save for one, the one precisely

Outside his cottage, nothing

Like the rest at all! For stood

Looking confused and bewildered

Exactly where ‘His’ lamppost should be

Was a naked girl with skin of silver

Arms wrapped ever so tightly

About her person, shivering


Swiftly, he grabbed the teapot

Poured an extra cuppa then

Hurried outside handing it her

“Manners” her first words

“Sorry luv, wasn’t thinking”

He placed his dressing gown

Over her shoulders, stood there

In his pyjamas, “It’s warmer indoors”

She nodded an endorsement


The girl now tucked up in front of

The smouldering log fire, upon his settee

He felt compelled to engage the

Silver skinned one in conversation

“You’re not a lamppost are you?

Should I phone the council, you know

Tell them they must have got

Their seed packets all mixed up?”


She shook her head placidly from

Side to side, “It would be best not to.

I am a highbred. Just one of my kind

Can shed the light of truth throughout

The universe and that really wouldn’t do

In a galaxy of liars. Besides silver skin is

Frowned upon. They kill my kind

Put us on the compost heap”


“Well you look a good sort to me.

The most beautiful thing…I mean girl

I have ever seen. What should we do?”


“You need to…turn me on…do so and

Nothing will ever be the same again.

All will be better than before.”


He asked her how he should turn her on

Did she have a switch?


“A duck soup kiss will do”


“Boy that was some kiss luv

Where are we?”


“At the galactic centre of

A brand new cosmos

We have left the chaos behind”


“Oh, I only asked because The Arsenal are playing at home on Saturday”






52 thoughts on “IN A GALAXY OF LIARS

    1. Cheers Sir, By the way did you ever get to check out that RT News station? I only say that because I just had the misfortune to run into the Fox News one a minute ago – seems to be a default setting on my TV guaranteeing an instant mood change from good to bad!

  1. You were in shock and awe still when you handed her the cuppa! Lol! I took a couple of lamppost pictures. Never in my wildest dreams could I have conjured a silver-skinned bloke come out of it! This is refreshing!

    1. Were I ever to meet her in such circumstances I think I’d need a drink of something rather stronger than tea. By the way I only wrote this because my wife challenged me to write about the first word that came into my head. ‘Lampposts’ for some obscure reason. I’m guessing that in modern day colloquialism I have to consider myself ‘sad’! Best of luck young M Winter

      1. Whew! Me too! I’d probly run away as fast as I could if that would ever happen to me.

        As for your wife’s challenge, you were probably looking out the window – contemplating! Whew!
        By the way, I’m not young! But thank you for that! Maybe a little naive and too optimistic?

      2. As I am 108 years old everyone is young to me, plus all gals I call ‘young’ even the old dear up the road with her zimmerframe. Always get a smile out of her – at least I think it’s a smile…could be wind I suppose!

      3. A hundred and eight! No way, as my two year old would say. Blimey, I thought there was nobody older than me nanny who’s 102! 108 in what, dog years? How many people am I talking to right now?

      4. Well on that awful Facebook thing I’m 108 because I wanted to be the oldest person on it and it only allows you to go back that far. It is thus that I claim it for myself. I just checked with my GP and he tells me I’m not bipolar so with any luck you’re only talking to me!

      5. I first read your comment as ‘flogged’ which had me a tad worried! Re-reading I picked up on ‘flagged.’ Sounds a bit serious…but hey it’s only Facebook!

      6. Not read it as it happens – only knew it existed just the other day when all the fuss about the film kicked off in the newspapers. From what I read I suspect there are thousands of us who could write better words!

      7. Was it as bad as the newspapers said? By bad I mean badly written. I once read Dan Brown for example and found he had created a fine storyline yet wrote so very badly I almost gave up on him.

      8. Cliff Hanger! I know that scoundrel well…a ladies man yes but us chaps down the pub ignore the swine…never let him near our daughters or our wallets. He deserves a horsewhipping in my book!

      9. I much preferred it back in Victorian times (forgot to mention I’m a time-traveller) when a mere glimpse of bare ankle was the order of the day. A gentler time (unless one was poor being crushed under the profit seeking new industrialists). Oh the tales of those days…hell my wife tells me it’s time for my evening lie detector test again…will the physicians never leave me alone!

    1. Philistine that I am I had to look Erte up – only to be chastised by the wife who pointed out that we have had one for donkey’s years. I’d never really looked at it before – she seemed a tad miffed!

  2. I envy your mind and I pity your dear Mum. She must have had her hands full keeping that imagination directed away from invention, thereby saving all of mankind. I truly loved all of it, but the ending…well, it was just perfect!

    1. Well The Arsenal are perfect. By the way my son just invented a covert mini submarine for worthy illegal immigrants (TRUE). Fortunately he hasn’t the funds to get it beyond the design stage and thus get himself arrested or such like!

      1. Nobody can argue that this is a brilliant idea! No harm in a few extra illegal immigrants, and if they are ‘worthy’ on top of it, it certainly seems worth a little run-in with the law. As soon as the unfortunate event of me inheriting my fortune occurs, I shall contact you for his account details 🙂 And please tell him Best of Luck from me 😀

      1. What a former KGB chappie with a passion for hamsters and Skol? Whilst on a cross-trainer thing this day I was listening to Paul Simon’s ‘At the Zoo’ and realized I’d forgotten that ‘Hamster’s turn on frequently’ – I never knew they had a switch!

    1. Is that why my wife gave me a present. A t-shirt no less bearing the legend ‘Edgar Allen Moron’ printed thereon? How are you anyway – one his missed your own unique brand of lunacy of late (save for the Gregory post I obviously still read)

      1. Hahahaha! I want one of those! I’m good. There’s some major changes afloat in my personal life and I’ve lost a little bit of my writing momentum, but I am rededicating myself now that the dust seems to be settling. I’m finding I need my lunacy to keep me sane!

      2. Very true – I had cause to have a blinding row with a mad woman we are buying (ongoing saga) a house from this very day. As ever I have been the very picture of good manners yet she has a bee in her bonnet that I am slowing up the sale when the opposite is true. Oh the stress the ignorant can cause – fairly ruined my day if the truth be told. Onwards and upwards though!

  3. I’m just lost, Mike… What in the world is a duck soup kiss? And The Arsenal? Even not knowing, this one was cute! As you can tell, I’ve been living under a rock lately, haven’t I? Ah, but I have missed you and Shirl in my absence!

    1. A duck kiss – a simple yet meaningful kiss. You’ve never heard of The Arsenal! Good God woman, never heard the like of it! Formed in 1886 they are my football team of choice…G and I are Arsenal mad.
      Glad to see you’re back in the game.

      1. It is only called soccer in the US I think. The rest of the planet reserves the rights to the name ‘football’! How’s that for tribalism! We have a few Americans who play in our Premier League these days and I note that the US ladies team are just about the best in the world – your blokes aren’t though!

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