Hilda Hogg bit the bullet and set herself to flog her figurine of ole King Zog bequeathed by her fabled auntie Dora who held a candle for the old despot. Times was hard, there was a duck at the door with a hat on, Bailiff Bernard dunning a bill.
‘Adieu, old chum’ she whispered through a final lucky lick on the pate of the china chappie in her trembling hands. If she had really had a candle she would have lit it and muttered a homily to tractor production in Albania.
Al Boley
fills gas
lamp mantle
a tin, eerie
bacolite mantle,
Woodbine romance
Shall we dance?
Syncopated Agatha;
Anglepoise, equipose,
Lachrymose quaques.
Crackle and ivory,
drum brush, Dapper Dan,
tuxedo, savoy, suave, class, pure class, lush…
rubber corsets on flaccid flappers,
inner tube condoms,
PJ Perelman, art deco, echo chamber
commemorations, abdications, league of nations,
pylon poets, silver screens, Teruel,
Abyssinia, King Zog, King Kong,
concierge, demi-urge, debutantes, ants-in-pants…
Popular Fronts, Fascist Cunts, Micky Mouse,
The uniformed doorman at the Picture House
Primo Carnero, Bonnie, Clyde, Lassie
Armstrong Siddeley, broken chassis
Spikes, louses, blouses, dames in trousers
Pathe Newsreels, nudists, sandalled Buddhists,
Caddying for Tony Locke, spats, Schneider Trophy
No nightingales in Berkeley Square, just martingales,
Grimbeau 