Reading 15 - Jack Goes Out to Buy Himself a Shirt
Jack Goes Out to Buy Himself a Shirt
Because of the Impossibility of all Things,
Social, Political and Moral,
Jack went out to buy himself a shirt.
It was the not quite,
The very worst thing,
He could have done.
Slouched casually against the bandstand in the park
reciting Poetry;
“Matches-snatches orange-green fire
Purple-haze jukebox tucked in a spire!”
Wearing white flannel trousers
and purple sequined shirt
talking casually about Art;
“I may not be in the Rembrandt class but I can still Paint!”
Slouched casually against the bandstand in the park
humming “The Red Flag”
questioning and mystified.
“But it’s so cold!”
So I said to my assembled friends;
“You must pump more blood,
You must sing and dance,
You must take off your clothes,
It's not to be cold any more!”
And stroll - up to this old spent farthing of a man - and say;
“You see that Little Tent of Blue up there, why is it so Blue?”
And this man, this wild reading man, cried out,
“I'd jam the gates of Hell explaining that!!”
Take a sip of beer and ask;
“Well what do you think of all our free-market poverty
and pollution then?”
And this man, this blunt Union man, takes me aside and says,
“I rode the trams in Barcelona!
That’s the way to change things!”
Stroll - up to this off-duty special-branch policewoman - and say;
“My sperm can get past any contraceptive device yet invented.
You want to try?”
And my friends apologise and rough me-up;
“Sorry about that!”
“Take his name!”
“He’s an anarchist!”
And I heard this so clearly that I said;
“Kick-off broken slaves! Kick-off!
Let the Icons of Capital Fracture!
And the clinging coils of Indenture crack
Beneath the hard bones of our striking Wrath!"
But nobody in here hears . . .
So I said to my assembled friends;
“There is more beauty,
In a single one of my sentences,
Than in all their oceans of iniquity.”
But nobody in here hears . . .
And my friends glide away . . .
So I throw my purple shirt in the gutter
and walk home bare chested, singing
“The people’s flag is deepest red . . .”
Because of the Impossibility of all Things,
Social, Political and Moral,
Jack went out to buy himself a shirt.
It was the not quite,
The very worst thing,
He could have done.
Slouched casually against the bandstand in the park
reciting Poetry;
“Matches-snatches orange-green fire
Purple-haze jukebox tucked in a spire!”
Wearing white flannel trousers
and purple sequined shirt
talking casually about Art;
“I may not be in the Rembrandt class but I can still Paint!”
Slouched casually against the bandstand in the park
humming “The Red Flag”
questioning and mystified.
“But it’s so cold!”
So I said to my assembled friends;
“You must pump more blood,
You must sing and dance,
You must take off your clothes,
It's not to be cold any more!”
And stroll - up to this old spent farthing of a man - and say;
“You see that Little Tent of Blue up there, why is it so Blue?”
And this man, this wild reading man, cried out,
“I'd jam the gates of Hell explaining that!!”
Take a sip of beer and ask;
“Well what do you think of all our free-market poverty
and pollution then?”
And this man, this blunt Union man, takes me aside and says,
“I rode the trams in Barcelona!
That’s the way to change things!”
Stroll - up to this off-duty special-branch policewoman - and say;
“My sperm can get past any contraceptive device yet invented.
You want to try?”
And my friends apologise and rough me-up;
“Sorry about that!”
“Take his name!”
“He’s an anarchist!”
And I heard this so clearly that I said;
“Kick-off broken slaves! Kick-off!
Let the Icons of Capital Fracture!
And the clinging coils of Indenture crack
Beneath the hard bones of our striking Wrath!"
But nobody in here hears . . .
So I said to my assembled friends;
“There is more beauty,
In a single one of my sentences,
Than in all their oceans of iniquity.”
But nobody in here hears . . .
And my friends glide away . . .
So I throw my purple shirt in the gutter
and walk home bare chested, singing
“The people’s flag is deepest red . . .”
