Problematic Poetry 

Yesterday’s Bacon

Oh, how I bemoaned your momentary sojourn, You fickle follicle failing forever in Time’s trial; You fragile fibre full of fabricated fiction. Insight was given to me. I saw the signs, witnessed the barren, winter wasteland in familial settings; heard the laments of many from the mouths of angry lions. In my youthful ignorance I thought myself above such senile torment. What a fool! My time came to mourn the loss of mine. Aged two scores and one I felt myself succumb, all the while living in denial. But Fate smiled on and presented the first sign of silky derma; gifted me with a barren crown. Or was it a new style that was passed on? Could I make it my mine, allow it to define? Yes. I accepted this twist of faith. I rejoiced in perpetual purity.I embraced this barren crown and now live on with surety.

It’s out and about! 

Hi folks! Consuming Tales
is now available for purchase. Not only will you get to read my short story ‘Reel in the Flickering Light’ but you’ll also be helping the charity World Child Cancer. 100% of the profits go towards finding new and better treatments.

So I can’t touch them?

Amongst the multitude of customers she found me. I was doing my best to stay out of the way so I could finish putting out a trolley and ponder life’s mysteries; like the one about Patrick Swayze appearing behind you whenever you start making pottery alone.

Rowena: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Ah, hello.”

Rowena: “Where do you keep the e-books?”

Me: “Eh, they would be online, you can’t pick them up in store.”

Rowena: “So I can’t see what’s available?”

Me: “Well you can check them out on the website on the computer over there, but that’s about it.”

Rowena: “So you’re saying I can’t look at them now?”

Me: “They’re e-books, electronic texts, they have no physically form.”

Rowena: “That means no then?”

Me: “Yeah, that would be a no.”

Rowena: “How peculiar.”

She steps back into the crowd and is absorbed quickly like water is consumed by a dry sponge.

I try to find my train of thought again but get it mixed up with another one of life’s mysteries; like if Patrick Swayze falls in a forest does he make a sound?

That’s not quite right… # BaldManProblems

This is why I don’t interact with people at bus stops

I walked to the village to wait for my bus. When I arrived I noticed I had some time so I went into the newsagent to grab a coffee. At the machine I had the choice of a mild coffee or strong coffee, I went for the strong coffee option because there’s nothing worse than weak coffee.

There was a lad outside the shop when I left and as I walked by him I could feel his eyes follow me. Standing a little way down from him I could still feel him stare.
I turned to look at him.

Me: Ha! Never seen a bald man before?”

Bus stop Ben: “Oh, no! I, eh…”

Unsure of this I say nothing, but then paranoia gets the better of me. A minute or so passes and I turn to him again.

Me: “I don’t have anything on me face, do I?”

He seems a bit nervous after I ask him that and I feel like an arse for causing that–“Ha! No, no! I’m not looking to start anything, I’m just curious about whether I have something on my face.”

Bus stop Ben: “Eh, no, no! You’re fine. I was…eh…looking at something else.”

Me: “Haha! Ah, right.”

We then had a five minute wait of trying not to look in each other’s direction.

This is why I don’t interact with people at bus stops. # BaldManProblems

Don’t do that!

I’m standing in the kitchen chatting away to Tim-Hammer before he goes off to bed. As we are talking he picks up the last few slices of bread and fecks them at me and says–“Throw that out for the birds tomorrow morning.” I knock the bread away with my hand.

Tim-Hammer: “What did you do that for?”

Me: “You should never throw bread at a coeliac!”

Tim-Hammer: “It was still in its packet. It won’t hurt you if you hold it.”

Me: “No! Bread bring pain!”

He just looks at me with disbelief and leaves the room.

Just when I thought it was safe to move back home I get assaulted with bread. # BaldManProblems