It’s Bettakultcha at the Corn Exchange in a couple of hours . . . I promised to present. I was going to do something I called Five Minute Frankenstein but it got a little out of hand (I just couldn’t get the actors, and the script was too unwieldy) so instead I spent a couple of hours yesterday writing a bit of a rant. In fact I spent so long writing that I forgot to compile my slides and so was banned from Bettakultcha! Not to worry, I’m not much of a performer so nobody is missing much. Here’s what I wrote, a kind of depressing, dyspeptic diatribe; Home Tourist for if you happen to live in Holbeck. It’s obviously a homage to John Cooper Clarke’s Beasley Street, before anyone accuses me of ripping the great man off . . . I never said I was original! Anyhow, it’s pretty self explanatory, except for the reference to Matthew Muck (it’s how the locals used to refer to Matthew Murray – or at least the school that’s named after him – and he’s buried in the graveyard next to Pleasant View.) Actually, there is no Pleasant View . . . but you try to get eleven rhymes for Pleasant Terrace, I dare you!
Here’s the words:
the windows black and barred
in communal stairs and hallways
the stench of socks and lard
where the iron grip of Matthew Muck
has rusted through and through
diagnosis bleak, condition acute
in the case of Pleasant View.
By the graveyard wall where apathy slumps
a man is taking a piss
decency’s a luxury we can’t afford
not when you’re a home tourist
cos dandelion’s your flower
misanthropy’s your brew
feels like a lifetime but it’s just an hour
walking down Pleasant View.
It’s neither nowt nor summat
here in Holbeck there’s no there there
just dirt and dregs and disrepair
In the donut of despair
a town planners dirty little dream
history abused
a developer coughs and a baby screams
in a cot on Pleasant View.
Past the back to backs and the boarded pubs
packed with budleia and weeds
a young girl bends to a passing car
a price is put on needs
pricking the boil of loneliness
all for a tenner or two
nothing much ever needs to be said
on the corner of Pleasant View.
Cars explode, sirens howl
like a scene from the apocalypse
and the shuffling kid with the double-blind smile
goes off to roll a spliff.
There’s a kittens skull on a dentists chair
there’s an oil slick in a puddle
and meanwhile back on Pleasant View
minds are all a muddle.
Cold beneath the collar
loan shark smirks at his mobile phone
the tang of truculent squalor
taints him to the bone
pit bulls drag kids around on rope
they tear off an ear for a chew
local police peddle half-hearted hope
on patrol along Pleasant View.
a quad bike in a two stroke blaze
belts along Top Moor Side
blue hoodie, blue scarf, blue pants
girlfriend along for the ride
doll face potty mouth squealing
fifteen going on thirty-two
three kids left in front of the telly
in a two bed flat on Pleasant View.
In the alley of the blind
the one eyed king is god
dead ends are the future redefined
and a wink is as good as a nod
lambs dressed up for slaughter
a horse with a taste for glue
a father flogs his daughter
round the bend of Pleasant View.
old guys glug non proprietary beer
toasting the good of your health
the greatest gift they could ever possess
is the liver of somebody else
litter simply circulates,
the shit stirs like a stew
it’s an air conditioned midden,
1C Pleasant View
Micky my unassuming neighbour
fiddles with the point of a knife
he’s tried more than twice since Christmas
to cut demons from out of his wife
dizzied by continual fumes
belched from roll ups, joints and glue
he throws a chair to let in the air
through a pane in 1 Pleasant View
People turn to bullies
quick as burgers turn to poo
partners get drastically sick
everytime they screw
it’s a forensic fantasy
nothing’s nice or true
in bleary, weary, teary, dreary,
clearly Pleasant View.
. . . and now the audio
Love your work, Mr Kirby. Tony Harrison would be proud.
That would have blown us all away at last night’s Bettakultcha. Maybe they’ll put you on the list for 12th April..?
ha, ta . . . obviously I can’t repeat myself at next bettakultcha so will have to think of something better,
Wonderful stuff! I would have loved this with 20 blank slides! They say they are into bending the format. You’d have given it a proper dent.
Tony would of loved that!
I had 20 slides, all the same . . . I’ll tweet the pic later, a piece of wonderful found poetry. Summed up Holbeck in a perfect pentameter.