Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Here Comes…” (it’s all getting a tad metaphysical isn’t?)

Ed Bates returns to the guitar duties this week.

Play this poem directly in your browser! Just click the “play” button below:
[audio:JVG_Poem20100411.mp3]


Here Comes …

“here comes the bride” squealed cousin dot
tugging her sister’s arm
a harbinger of things to come
it proved a false alarm
it was only the neighbour’s beagle, ‘chops’
sussing out the din
cocked his leg on aunt may’s zimmer
missed and sprayed her shin

“thank god it isn’t raining”
great aunt gladys voiced
as she mingled with the other guests
around the old hill’s hoist
they’d come to see their darling pearl
wed young rodney stone
catch the latest gossip
and spread some of their own

pearl’s mother nance was overjoyed
and generous to a fault
but father bert was tighter
than a rusted engine bolt
the cost of a reception
vexed him long and hard
till a stroke of inspiration
“nance, we’ll hold it in the yard”

pearl trimmed the hydrangeas
rodney mowed the lawn
nance cleaned out the chook shed
with the help of cousin dawn
aunt joyce took care of catering
a feast to tantalize
the fifty guests, a cat, two dogs
and half a billion flies

cocktail onions, red and green
skewered to cubes of spam
devilled eggs and oysters, smoked
fresh straight from the can
a heart made out of saveloys
melted cheese all over
the centre piece, like everest
a seven tiered pavlova

strawberry, blackberry, peach and plum
passion fruit and quince
for those who lacked a sweet tooth
a tier of savoury mince
a love knot shaped from lamingtons
the piping, strawberry swirl
tidings scored with snowballs
“good luck rod and pearl”

the best man len, turned up drunk
with rodney’s old flame gail
cousin pete, a late arrival
having just made bail
brian and ex-wife clare exchanged
a torrent of abuse
but today, for pearl and rodney’s sake
the families called a truce

the bridal party entered
to thunderous applause
theatrically revealed
behind electric garage doors
with penny pinching bert
overseeing preparations
in place of fairy lights
recycled christmas decorations

responsible for music- geoff
pearl’s shiftless younger brother
two cassettes, unlabelled
couldn’t tell one from the other
the wedding march they’d chosen
was the beatles “if i fell”
instead they marched to meatloaf
“bat out of hell”

aunt gladys was as good as deaf
too vain to wear an aid
free with her opinions
and the tact of a grenade
husband reg, the sour old coot
was every bit as bad
“you’d have to be” bert surmised
“to live with great aunt glad”

the bridesmaid fern was well endowed
the dress she wore low cut
aunt gladys spluttered loudly
“that whore looks like a slut”
pavlova really hit the fan
sparked a free for all
cousins, siblings, uncles, aunts
none escaped the brawl

the best man len decked cousin brian
the first to get one in
aunt gladys thrust her parasol
as deft as errol flynn
“stop at once, you animals”
aunt may began to scream
cousin ivy silenced her
with a jar of clotted cream

the celebrant was knocked out
by the would be brides bouquet
pearl’s father, bert, arrested
before he gave the bride away
the dogs joined in the frenzy
biting everyone who passed
grandad got it sorted
turned the sprinklers on full blast

relationships were strained
to say the very least
pearl joined the navy
rod became a priest
nance and bert divorced
their house went up for sale
aunt may moved back to yarram
cousin pete moved back to jail

aunt joyce emigrated
pearl’s brother did the same
the best man had a sex change
cousin dot just changed her name
fern went on a holiday
and was never seen again
cousin brian swore off drinking
ex-wife clare swore off men

sad to say aunt gladys
has shuffled off this mortal plane
she was minding someone’s business
and forgot to mind the train
death they said was instant
before she hit the ground
but her tongue kept right on wagging
they were forced to put it down

every family has its trials
within us all; the seeds
try scratching round your own backyard
you’ll find your share of weeds
cutting corners has its cost
as this sorry saga shows
in the time it takes to slice a pav
here comes could be there goes

© Copyright 2010 Ian Bland

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