feel it

Stranglers 22.03.13 Cambridge 037


we talked for a thousand years
as we drove across
the bitchin’ wasteland
in search of shakespearoes

through drizzle dark and dreary
in our sleazy charabang
we came to a city in chaos
that teemed with men in black
and strange little girls
just strolling along minding
their own business

through relentless rain
and a wind that bit hard
we dreamt of midnight summer
and arrived at last
to the halls of exchange
where a queue of rodneys
were just hangin’ around

the air in there was pretty thin
but we didn’t go outside
to escape heady aromas
of methane and perspiration
we had enough time
so we waited instead
for the vaunted arrival of
the four horsemen

their gaze was mesmeric
and their instruments brought
forth sound that liquefied
the crowd and transmogrified
us into a pulsating surging amoeba
forgotten words from eons past
burst triumphant from rusty throats
and we sang the anthems of long ago
and stabbed the sky with flailing fists

greying men became young once more
and sallied forth to join the affray
as the gods of strangulation
upped the tempo and demanded
the presence of the nubiles

we sweated and cried and cheered
for more with shouts of encore
until the climax rolled over us
like a Sherman tank over
a horde of sewer rats
and we were the spent casings
of its high velocity shells

we left the great hall
never looking back
and ventured once more
to the wastelands
homeward bound
to where we live
and where there’s
always sun


Dedicated to the awesomeness of Jean-Jacque, Jet, Dave and Baz…but not forgetting the indelible contribution of Hugh without whom much of what has come to pass, wouldn’t have.

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