A WALK-ON PART IN A WAR

Death-and-surrealism-in-the-attic

Facing a firing squad of stoned veterans, blindfolded, a last cigarette

Laughs in the face of the captain, treasures memories of his sweetest brunette

Was it espionage, treason or murder? he cares not, he has few regrets

She served him up his last supper, in his cell, on her back, settling love’s debts

She now treads the boards out of the limelight, dreams of one day the silver screen

No spotlight, no leading lady, just bit parts for any old scene

Wears a crucifix merely for fashion, keeps safe his swan-song uniformed figurine

An unmade bed in a bare light bulb garret, a ruin where they shared the exquisite obscene

In her scrapbook she pastes in his photo’s, Barcelona, Cadiz and Seville

Most of the shots out of focus, some that compel time to take rest and standstill

Pours herself a chipped glass cheapest Rioja, yet there remains a withering desire to distil

Comes to a conclusion of heroic grandeur, head back, she swallows a cyanide pill

 

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33 thoughts on “A WALK-ON PART IN A WAR

    1. The song for Syd no less. ‘Wish You Were Here’ an old favourite of mine, not played for an age, sits comfortably with Coldplay’s The Scientist…I shall have to do a bit of time-travelling methinks!

    1. Didn’t mean it to turn out sad young Marissa…I blame it on the flu virus Shirl and I have contracted…for three days now my mouth has felt like the bottom of a parrots cage!

    1. Cheers young Shehannemoore…we are dying of a flu virus here, probably need a good old Scottish chill to kill the wretched virus thing…keeps going warm then freezing in these parts which is annoying…that then is the weather from Hellfire Corner!

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