The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Animal Enclosures“.
Good afternoon Jon, and after an absence of nearly two years, welcome to Coventry.
I’ve seen quite a number and variety of animal enclosures in my travels, from cages on the backs of motorcycles in Vietnam, donkey pens in Italy, to the more controversial Spanish bullrings which are understandably under siege.
In fact, to ensure I’m completely thematically correct today, I’m coming to you from a horse stable in Coorley Moor on the outskirts of Cov, so excuse any background noises.
Last week, as you are no doubt aware, after a particularly vile and venomous campaign Britain voted to exit the EU and as the initial euphoria or disappointment wears off, carnage is sweeping the political landscape and many people are only now pondering exactly what the ramifications and new realities will be.
One of the more contentious and emotive issues of the campaign centered on immigration and I’m pretty sure there is one group of people and one person in particular who might struggle to gain entry into Britain in the future, even in a poem.
To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:
“What’s crawled up ‘Pig’?” ‘Spanner’ sort the views of Lindy Dent
While she didn’t have an answer she knew what ‘Spanner’ meant
“I mean, look at him, he’s chirpy; he’s in a joyful mood
I’ve never seen him happy – well, not with anything but food”
“He’s a different person” noted Lindy “an entirely new persona
Like stories I’ve read when people come out of a coma”
You could tell “Pig” was nervous by the way he picked his nose
Both nostrils to the knuckles, then wiped clean on his clothes
“Pig” was genuinely excited; in fact, he couldn’t wait
The first time in his life he’d been on a blind date
Escorted by his mother; not allowed to go alone
Though she waited in the car and let ‘Pig’ enter on his own
He was welcomed at reception and asked to take a seat
Then ushered to a building where the two of them would meet
‘Pig’ was introduced to Millie and politely asked to pay
He had a mind to do a runner but it was too late anyway
They eyed each other searchingly, although it must be stressed
While neither seemed too thrilled, ‘Pig’ was plainly not impressed
She looked nothing like her picture; at least four times the size
Her feet were bloody massive and a mean look in her eyes
He was bigger than she’d hoped, with that turgid, gormless sneer
‘Pig’ acted like a big man but Millie smelt the fear
In a glance she realised ‘Pig’ didn’t have a clue
She now had the upper hand as the pair of them well knew
The technique ‘Pig’ employed, the skilled would not endorse
Still, nothing untoward given Millie was a horse
As he tried to stroke her neck Millie recoiled in fright
‘Pig’ threw himself on top and tried to hold on tight
Millie bolted from the stable, ‘Pig’ clinging to her mane
She cleared the paddock gate and prepared to jump again
‘Pig’ slithered down her back, left clinging to her rump
Not the place to be on a horse about to jump
What happened next was ugly; by rights ‘Pig’ should be dead
Poetic license saved him; his ego bruised instead
The stables weren’t at fault; ‘Pig’ told them he could ride
Millie can’t be blamed; It was ‘Pig’, not her who lied
He boasts to this day he once rode rather well
No mention all his mounts were on a carousel
© Copyright 2016 Ian Bland
Also have a listen to the songs on “Angel In Reverse”