Loop-de-Loop (An Aerial Survey of Shipley)

(A poem about flying over the Democratic Republic of Shipley with my cat Toulouse)

 

 

Toulouse and I,

floating in the silver blue sky...

 

Keeping out of view

of the bastard kestrel

with the Philip Davies face.

It performs a loop-de-loop

then with one fell swoop

it carries off a toddler,

pushchair, pasty and all.

 

A plastic-faced popinjay

dances a postmodern polka

to the fist pumping rhythms

in his hollowed-out skull.

 

What is this we see?

An ageing Teddy Man,

his receding hair

greased as heavily

as a vintage chip pan,

sings I wish I was,

o-oo-o-oh,

a wild west hero.

His drunken caterwauling

and calling for lager

lead to unseemly altercations

with beefy market traders,

followed by farcical fisticuffs.

 

What is the well dressed nonagenarian

wearing this season?

Toulouse says Mmm, let's see...

It appears to be

Birkenstocks,

grey socks

and black underbiscuits

held up by Bobby Ball braces.

That's it?

That's all?

No less.

No more.

 

Toulouse and I,

preparing to land

right outside Shipley Boots,

using a pair of Bags For Life

as impromptu parachutes...

 

B.R. 14/08/2016