To catch a clam

He was the most courageous of fishermen only the size of an oyster

When he walked out on to the harbour walls

The other fishermen would cat call him,

Hey little man can you date a crab? Can you ride a fish

Like a performing Arab?

 

But Peter Grimes just ignored them all

As he set off in his miniature size coracle

With a tin hull, for it was a tobacco tin.

 

Yet he knew if he could catch on a fish he would eat like a king

And it was his wish 

to woo the very most beautifulest maiden of the town

Buy landing her a haddock

Upon her gown

It doesn't matter how big you are she had once said to him

Only that you believe in yourself and sing your own hymn

Well if size didn't matter then Peter could surely win

The heart of this maiden who was so entreating

 

He went off in gale and storm and Hurricane

And his little boat was tossed like an oyster shell

Across every swell

And each wave was like a mountain

And each trough a bottomless well

But he kept on sailing his good ship lightning

To what end none could ever tell

 

He'll never catch nothing said the fish wives

Look he is far too small to sail

He should just give up and become an accountant

And live his life counting seashells

 

And the fishermen they jeered at him

And ostracized him in the pub

But there's the rub,

To sleep perchance to dream he thought

Of catching his girl a pearl

 

If they called him the oyster sized fisherman why then

He should dive down and pick up a shell

And tussle with the muscle

Which owns the grit

And has wound it around oh so well

 

And she could even have the mirror to hold close

To her breast, 

And take it out to preen herself

And even look her best

 

And I would live in her pocket

And be next to her warm love

And We could fit together like a plug and socket

Or indeed like a hand and glove

 

Now I must dive down

To the ocean's bed

Where the clams clap hands 

And applause the fish schools

As they go pirouetting overhead

 

So, he descended one day deep down from the harbour wall

And swam around the lee of the island

To a sheltered little cove

Where once he'd spotted an oyster bed

But which the other fishermen didn't know

 

And he took his chance in the morning light to dive

Down into the blue

 

The waters they were deep

But clear enough in the shallows

And he swam like a fish propelled by his wish

To be the pearl king of the marsh mallows

 

Down inside the oyster bed rows and rows of oysters gaped

Their mouths were open, then closing as the ate the passing plankton

And so, Peter crept up slowly hiding behind seaweed

Then pretending to be an octopus, he ballet danced across the sea mead

Two shells he saw in situ, empty they were of clam

And so, the two halves he held around him and said now 

I know who I am

A wolf in sheep’s clothing

I shall tread among their flock and when

They least expect it, I shall give them

Quite a shock

And hold open their vice like mouth before

they get a chance to shut

Then I can reach in and grab the pearl

And swim up to the prawn shop

 

So he began to do just that picking his way surreptitiously

Among the early morning clam fields that day

And none of the oysters really noticed him

Though they gave him some funny looks

Who is this strange looking oyster who is walking the wrong way up

And shuffling and tripping

over open lips

But none of them blinked an eye or moved

So at last Peter came to the mother of all Oysters

Perhaps she has the Mother of Pearls?

So he moved up to look down into her giant mouth

And as he did so

His half shells fell away

And he was revealed as a fisherman

Well instantly the mother oyster she gobbled him up

And as she did so he felt her slimy jelly stomach

sloshing and washing about

So frantic now was Peter

That he beat upon the walls,

But they were tightly shut

And his hand was cut

And his spirits began to fall

Until all of a sudden in the glimmering

mirrored dark, he spied the precious pearl

And it was heaving about

and rubbing the mirror and an inner light did call

It seemed to say

I always wanted to leave her

I need to get away

Take me with you Peter

And I will make your day

 

So Peter picked up the pearl

And with his back against the roof

And his feet against the floor

He forced the Mother Oyster

To open up her vice like maw

 

And out he popped the pearl

Then quickly followed the man

But then though the mouth slammed shut

She screamed and shouted

About how he stole her world

"Give back my pearl!" she demanded

Thief, thief she called

And suddenly Peter realised he was in the middle of an oyster

field without an escape plan

 

Suddenly a passing octopus

He stretched down an arm

And picked up Peter and his pearl

And carried him away from harm

 

So impressed was the octopus by Peter's cunning and courage

You are a shape shifter after my own heart

Now well I can give a part

No longer need you forage

I will take back to your start

Your amazing adventure is over

And you can return to your girl

And You can wow her with your powers

As you present to her your pearl

 

I shall, I shall said Peter as he thanked

The octopus and climbed back up the harbour wall

All drenched he was but walked still into the tavern

Where she was serving ale

And when she saw him, she went a little pale

And the fishermen drinking like fish

They dropped their jaws into their dish

And the fishwives could not think of a tale to tell

They were speechless too as well

As Peter strode boldly up to the bar

And presented to his one true love

A Pearl the like of which was orient ar

Never had such a one been seen before and never neither since

And all who saw couldn't believe their eyes

 but in their hearts they were convinced

This oyster sized fisherman had as much skill

 and cunning

To hold his head high in the community

And never again was a bad word said about this

 Smallest

Of fishermen see

 

Role Play

 Honoree talking to her faux professor husband:

Well darling

We've lived a very middle class life

and nuzzled up,

cozzied up against our middle class friends

Talking about Jamie oliver

And all the different kinds of Chilli

available in the Waitrose supermarket that money can buy

Our money darling, our money can buy us choice in the supermarket

I can just hear the nasally tone of voice

When each tries to sound more horsey than the next

Sebastian and her

Each coming from working class parents who have tried to make it

No, have made it into the landed classes

Will pay thousands of pounds a term to get their children into 

a private educations

and the Diana whose father worked hard his whole for money

For what

To make money but contraditorarily to preach

About how it is the root of all evil

Diana has a plain idea of the security that every woman seeks from a man

- that he should make enough money,

So she looks for this,

And Sebastian her spouse had been looking for just that sort, the sort who are looking for a monied

father figure, the sort who can provide,

Except he, he never quite can finish making money,

Perhaps there was an eating diorder in his family,

Or a sign of family out of control, trying to stay in control of the finances,

Because he only cares about making more money, his mother's wish

And having more food,

Ah the stability

Then you've made it

The class system

The fool

George, performing

the childlike role for the teacher

The naughty child who can only find fault

No he is generous and warm, mostly like a teacher,

yet, that is also what George is looking for

a father figure,

always the absent father,

And then why not throw it all away and move to a classless society

Like Australia

Babbit the rabbit

 Babbit was a rabbit with very special powers

He'd nab it, then stabit and hide it in the flowers

He'd chew it, then spew it for really hours and hours

And that is the story of Babbit the rabbit

The flied pie catcher

 Today David Attenborough introduces

The flied pie catcher

This bird is really very fat, and as its name suggests, attracts a lot of flies

It is highly unattactive and lives by the side of the road

Outside Ginsters pasty shops mainly and other pie shops.

Green grass

 No use thinking that the

Grass is always greener

That the smoke is always cleaner

Or that blokes are always meaner

Than a muscle in a clam

For the wheels on the tram

They still go round and round

Still tell me who I am

On the great Grandstand

No use thinking the stage is wider

Or that you won't be an outsider

When you really only plan

When you live in a caravan 

I don't know who I am

But the wheels on the pram

They still go round and round

And what circles do not crowd?

And what silence is not loud

Or what silver lining has each cloud

So see through new eyes open

Don't think of what is broken

For each demon has an angel

Whose words are yet unspoken

But here is a hopin'

It was late in the evening

 Oh, now the end is here

It is late and the serenades are playing

The woman I love

Is a far-off hailing

Calling me back to her?

Or to some other man

In the milieu of becoming

I'm not sure who I am

Except apart or with you there 

The guitar is strummed

And I feel the fear disappear

Only the comfort in sound

The music to my ears

And this is love

It is the throb of life

In other forms of art

Which we cannot touch yet are near

Far nearer than her love for me

far nearer than eternity

As time is a mirage on a swaying reed

Above a lake of becoming or suffering

I cannot tell which

And yet the serenade keeps playing

and somehow,

I know the switch

Has been turned

She has changed 

Has gone away

Or is it my fear that speaks in this way?

I only know what the wine says

Late in the evening

Black hole bathtub

I was taking a bath at about a quarter to eight

When the plug was pulled out and the water gate

It opened like a scandal, a vortex to perceive

But what I thought I saw through my cortex was hard to believe

I had diminished down to the size of a needle

And like a compass in a haystack, I was getting lost in middle

Further I was pulled into the blackholes suction

Gravity had me scrambling to stay away from its unction

But slip sliding I went like a Paul Simon song

Down towards the darkness of the unfathomable strong

Pull by increments, it speed became terrible

And I hollered like a fish Eagle balding without dirigible

Screaming in an ice floe no hope of escaping

I only thought of a selfie that my demise was worth taping

But wormhole or no, I knew not my destination

In the event of the horizon, I was without hesitation

I took a quick snapshot with my submersible kodak

And all that was left after my attack was a picture of black

Just me like a silver surfer on the cusp of going under

Down the rabbit hole like Alice to the land of endless thunder

When a booming went the kettle and flipped the flex to my surprise 

I ended up not in heaven but in a bathtub paradise

The whole episode was over in the blink of infinity's eye

And I could see once more my bathroom wall, and outside blue sky

 

I shan't say I liked it or wished I'd gone over

Because if it really was a black hole then I'd be an interstellar rover

And that job is already taken by a fellow named Musk

But he is just a shadow now as the daylight turns to dusk