The poem I wrote this week for Jon’s JVG Radio Method on 3RRR has another quite tricky theme “NECKS”.

Click to hear today’s poem… [audio:JVG_Poem20070930.mp3]

This week Jon and I chatted more nonsense about swearing, Ed Bate’s mum and after the show I had to dash to do a gig with my band over in St Kilda at the Pint On Punt again.

Two gigs  in two weeks, that’s pretty good going for us.

Ed Bates is responsible for wonderful bottle neck blues you can hear in the background this week. Thanks Ed, it sounds pretty good.


NECKS

you can lose your sight and hearing, your sense of smell
survive without an arm, a leg or ball
but no-ones lost their neck and lived to tell
with the possible exception of Gladstone Small

cosmetic surgery is quite the rage
nature’s little faux pas soon corrected
or reparation for the ravages of age
all to often, the neck remains neglected

tummy tuck, face lift, thigh reduction
breast enhancement, botox, what the heck
a new nose, a new chin, and liposuction
but a collar is all you give your poor old neck

hands are graced with rings of platinum gold
nails enamelled red and blue and ochre
while the neck is left stuck out in the cold
garrotted by a tacky vinyl choker

“what about a necklace?” you exclaim
a title misleading at very best
the neck’s a mere hook to hold the chain
while the diamond casts it’s glory on the breast

spend buckets putting highlights through your hair
cheeks aglow with rouge or something louder
lips and eyes receive the best of care
while the neck is simply buried under powder

manicures, pedicures, mud packs
buttocks soften in a goat’s milk bath
tonics, colonics, brazilian wax
but your neck you hide from view behind a scarf

if your body is a temple as scholars quip
then the architect is pretty bloody shoddy
cause your neck juts out like the gaza strip
trapped between your noggin and your body

eventually you’ll have a bad hair day
you’ll find you’ve cut your nose off to spite your face
it’s hard to keep your chin up any way
the face that launched a thousand ships will sink – without a trace

when that pain in the neck is finally gone
you’ll know you’ve only got yourself to blame
cause without your neck holding up your scone
you can’t even hang your head in shame

© Copyright 2007 Ian Bland

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