Round the corner from
McCartneys home
High as six kites
Me and tony did  gloam
From gobshite the clown
On what seemed a wind up
Stevie had just wound up
Took several calls back to make sure the truth
A young man had just ripped himself out by the root
Played Sunday league the next day
For the wrong team
And then later headed to Anfield
For the game
Gainst the Mancs
Which we won
Two nil
The funny thing
Stevie
Worked in the box office
There was six empty seats
All round about us.

Christmas in prison
Christmas out at sea
Christmas round the in laws
Christmas alone with me

Christmas with the Manson's
Christmas in the I.C.U
Christmas in Carcosa
Just the Yellow King and you

He won't dress as father Chrimbo
In his tattered rags he'll stay
As he eats all time and space
No prezzies he'll display

He won't watch vintage Two Ronnies
As the black stars rise
And in terrible twin sunlight
Your soul will be his prize.

My grandad on my mothers side
Was an idiosyncratic cat
Obsessed with engineering
Draughtsmanship and that

Recorded and catalogued
Big bands on a reel to reel
Oft silent in a low mood
You never knew the way he'd feel

But at Chrimbo came his home brew wine
and after a glass or two
He'd start to act all silly
Mug for the camera
Then the night was through

He had a turn of phrase
Long outmoded in the seventies
To the point of incomprehension
To the children of his latter days

If you asked what he was doing
He'd say I'm just scratching out my Ditty box
An invite to absurdism?
Or another life he'd half forgot?

I think he missed the war
And the certainty
It brought
As he poured over his old blueprints
The battles still unfought

Chistmas in prison
Christmas out at sea
Christmas round the in laws
Christmas alone with me

Christmas at the wainwrights
Christmas in the I.C.U
Christmas in Carcosa
Just the yellow king and you

He won't dress as Father Chrimbo
In his tattered robes he'll stay
As he eats all time and space
No prezzies he'll display

He won't watch vintage two ronnies
As the black stars rise
And in terrible twin sunlight
Your soul will be his prize.

The sky is clear tonight
Clearer than for awhile
Reflected off of the **** snow
We haven't seen in some time
There was an conjunction
But I think it's now gone
Like that meteor stream
Came at Chrimbo forlorn
I always miss things
I'm not that astute
But when you
See the sky through
You imagine it's root.

Christmas Eve probably 1978
The sweet smell o roasting turkey
From the back kitchen emenates
Albert Finney's Scrooge on the box
The grate hung with three socks
The tree smelling the way
The trees used to smell
Sugared glacier fruits
Banana toffee
Turkish delght
Tangerine
Apple
Pointless vitamins
In the torrent
O *****
Then Jimmy came home
Comedic drunk
Rolled round on the carpet
Spouted his usual  funk
Then crawled up the stairs
And collapsed on the bed
On Christmas morn he thought
That he'd already
Been here
Deja vu
The spirit o Chrimbo
Can make you feel queer.

In the movie
There would be the sound if a projector starting up
And then grainy overexposed
Happy family memories loop
Not the darkened smokey room of a spy thriller
But something
Seeming light
That turns into
A chiller
The solid crate of love
That's is family and friends
Gets slowly emptied out
You don't notice at first
Regular Sunday dinners
Turn into Easter and Chrimbo
You loose a lover
And all those they were into
Some friends move away
Or just into themselves
A suicide
Handful of weddings
Familial pools
Unavoidably spreading
An ensemble cast
Dynamic and connected
Turns
Dour monologue
From Self pity
Reflecting
And then a great flash
As it comes off the spool
The celluloid *****
In the empty room.

They say it's all downhill from here
Is that in mind or in body?
As the track disappears
Into the mist
Like a mountain railway

In a photo of the grand gallery
You really can't tell
If your looking up or down
To or from
The Pharoah's great well

You think you're one thing
Til the Doctor says no
Not anymore *******
Them waters don't flow

Not anymore
It's come off the spool
It ***** unattached
In the gathering gloom

The dimming of vision
The dulling of sound
The fear of collision
So close to the ground

The cattle are lowing
The children asleep
From Chrimbo to Easter
All lives slowly creep

To the place of the skull
In the crowd gathered hence
We came to pass judgment
We can't sit on the fence

So here is a stone
Do with it what you will
As impossible lightning
Crashes down on the hill.