American Collectors ~ David Hockney
The revolution awaits the man in the guerrilla suit
The ink slowly dries on the pamphlets in his car-boot
And the trunks on the troop of room-filling elephants
Trumpet to the tune of philosophical irrelevance
The dealer checks his cell-phone for the international markets
Crosses the killing floor shoe-leather whispering on carpet
Smiles in the knowledge he will get what he’s due
Guns the engine to chrome on his bee-em-double-yew
In the shrubbery disguised as a man in a black suit
Crouching sunglass, earpiece and stylish jackboot
Lurks the agent of change with an eye on the prize
Who parades in a bikini made for a woman half her size
The agent employs tech-tricks to read the invoices
Of the ill-clad sun-bather who’s considering her choices
Between deckchair debauchy and slick sun-lounger
While concrete in half-life decays all around her
Condensation collects behind guerrilla suit eyes
Cell phone erupts between pin-striped thighs
The agent responds to his earpiece whispering imponderous
Licks the tip of his pistol with lizard tongue lugubrious
And with rounds made of darkness by an empire in decline
Blows the chrome-lustre off some of that Teutonic shine
And I watch, a furtive sparrow, from these waiting-waste wings
Wondering if it’s worth bothering to pull down the curtain strings
The ink slowly dries on the pamphlets in his car-boot
And the trunks on the troop of room-filling elephants
Trumpet to the tune of philosophical irrelevance
The dealer checks his cell-phone for the international markets
Crosses the killing floor shoe-leather whispering on carpet
Smiles in the knowledge he will get what he’s due
Guns the engine to chrome on his bee-em-double-yew
In the shrubbery disguised as a man in a black suit
Crouching sunglass, earpiece and stylish jackboot
Lurks the agent of change with an eye on the prize
Who parades in a bikini made for a woman half her size
The agent employs tech-tricks to read the invoices
Of the ill-clad sun-bather who’s considering her choices
Between deckchair debauchy and slick sun-lounger
While concrete in half-life decays all around her
Condensation collects behind guerrilla suit eyes
Cell phone erupts between pin-striped thighs
The agent responds to his earpiece whispering imponderous
Licks the tip of his pistol with lizard tongue lugubrious
And with rounds made of darkness by an empire in decline
Blows the chrome-lustre off some of that Teutonic shine
And I watch, a furtive sparrow, from these waiting-waste wings
Wondering if it’s worth bothering to pull down the curtain strings
17 comments:
All the world really IS a stage...coming and going. Thanks for the slice, I'll be back. -Jayne
Naw...hell no..let's let the show play out to the final scene in the final act of the final play.
Meet the new act,
same as the old act,
won't be fooled again!
Welcome Jayne (with-the-very-long-name) :)
walking man: perhaps there is no final act - just a slow decay
Yodood: I won't say "I told you so" - oops, I just did :D
Superb painting, superlative verse to accompany it.
Well done you.
Hockney - the boy can sure draw and paint.
...and as the closing bell rang, the agents hied but not fast enough, as the market crashed!
though the curtain
blinds
i see
there is nothing to behold
THE REVOLUTION HAS BEEN POSTPONED!!!
I like:
'And the trunks on the troop of room-filling elephants
Trumpet to the tune of philosophical irrelevance'.
Got this picture in my head now!
Thanks Jimmy
James: He can, but I must admit that I don't get what his paintings are about :/
Subby: here's to the revolution destroying the closing bell altogether :]
Jon: perhaps it will not be revolution but evolution
Cinnamon: that line came about because of the previous one which refers to his car-boot - I was thinking the Americans don't call it that - hence trunk popped into my head, followed by elephant etc etc
AMEN!
And no worries on the "boot" reference. I've read more English than American books, so am fairly good with it. Besides, one of my former neighbours hails form Manchester, so I get to keep in practise.
I like the way your mind works.
hello, sparrow. :>>))
your mix of stupendous images within a cohesive story with the originality of the language itself just makes your writing so rich! a couple of preferred examples (in random order:
"Crosses the killing floor shoe-leather whispering on carpet"
(wow, bébé, i hear it! almost smell it!)
"And the trunks on the troop of room-filling elephants/ Trumpet to the tune of philosophical irrelevance" (such a marvelous take on "the elephant in the room")
"Between deckchair debauchy and slick sun-lounger/ While concrete in half-life decays all around her" (not much difference between the choices, lol! it's a hard, short life for all indeed! "concrete in half-life", jeez, pisces, where'd you come up with that one??!)
we have a love of taking tired clichés and making them all new. it's a hiphop kind of thing, i think, that most poets and editors today just don't get! each poem you write is an act of revolution, pisces. i too am feeling more and more ripped off everyday! down with these "dealers" and "agents", i say! a stunner, as usual! ~lt xoxoxo
"smiles in the knowledge he will get what he's due"
I had my sneaky fingers going when I read that. Excellent.
Loved the ending, and the pic.
Thanks for sharing.
respecting BWO and all that goes with it, I still like to be a reflective commenter on blogs I cherish... so may I say that reading your work remains a singular delight.Work based BS has kept me a little pre-occuupied this past fortnight and the reading has been sustaining...
thanks for your craft ... and craftiness!
Subby: :) It's the same language really - you guys just make more spelling mistakes.
T: Hey thanks for visiting
Laura: I wondered where I got the sparrow from ;) Thanks for the wonderful comments.
re: the half life of concrete: the concept of a substance decaying in halves has fascinated me since I first learned of it, in human terms radioactive waste will never disappear (!)
Liza: I'm fascinated as to what "I had my sneaky fingers going" means :o
Harlequin: thanks for you words of encouragement, every bit helps :D
Pisces, took my English teacher a while to catch on to the fact, I wouldn't conform to the "proper" way of spelling. But she was grand to over-look it, heh.
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