Tag Archives: twins

Day of the Dead poem: Interlude Idioglossia

“An angel may weep if a twin should die”

Wide you haftago, haftago, haftago (leave me or alowen)
Broken hearted tempo in the hearth (flames aglowen)
Or alowen larlarlowen lowen lar lar lar

At the Cut pockits emty see bombed out buildins
Crumble rumble rubble rumbba rub rub
Granma died in that house, royt, rumbba rub rub
Rubbed out smithereens an mightily blown up
A Pfennig for yer thoughts me dear, Luftwaffe, leffé, leffé
Luk out, lef bizniz (leave or alowen)
Left Bank Francs fer catacombs tours deep underground
Leftovers, angovers, a face as lung as Livery Street
An all the Purple Hearts you cud eat
Keeps the bitternez dowen (keeps pharmacists in lifestyles
They have growen accustomed to)

See, it’s not jus me, it’s the sadness of everything
An everyone, everyone, everyone, and all that’s ever been

Treacle liver taters shugga choclit lar lar lar
(rations is a passion in a fashion when passin through the yard)
Lollylar lollylar (cominyar cominyar)
Rememba Trev the orse an Joey the tortuss
An Dandy dog an Patch the cat?
The stillborn rabbits buried under the lawn?
(Sausages grow on trees you know, lar lar lar)
Shellin peas, wipe yer feet on a doorstep made from a shell
Unexploded metal an shiny, merry Christmas from Hell

O wide you haftago, haftago, haftago (leave me or alowen)
Broken hearted tempo in the hearth (flames aglowen)
Or alowen larlarlowen lowen lar lar lar

Midland Red, daily bread, blackbird bye bye
Mrs Mills knees up yellin Happy New Year
Elizabeth Liza Beth Lizzy Liz Liz
Bethany Eliza Bet Betty boop beep
Promises made were not owers to keep
Breakin hips breakin words breakin backs breakin vows
Chewin gum G.I. Joe nylon stockings choclit up
To the neck in muck and bullets and lar lar soldier blood
Ma’s bezt mate… jus turned seventeen
Gassed herself coz she thought she was no lunger clean
O so beautiful, so beautiful she was
(an I’d cry her some tears if I had any left)

See, it’s not jus me, it’s the sadness of everything
An everyone, everyone, everyone, and all that’s ever been

Ma’s promised us a picnic if we both be gud
Pretty new dresses an matching red huds
(lar lar lar)
The teacher never cud tell us apart in a munth of Sundys
But school’s dun with now royt, so cum out n play
Shake off yer unparalleled sadness
As heavy as a hundred woollen coats soaked by rain
An the river-lung tears of angels missin their wings
An hark now, listen to the song o the twins…
Fer the sweetest things may be heard above all storms
Of the mightiest wrath (and the sadness of all things)

Lar lar lar, I knew you’d be waitin fer me when I came home
Took ages dint it?
More days than I knew what to do with, if truth be known
These colours, they don’t half look gud. Shall we keep em?
(lar lar lar) to be sure to be sure.


Día de Muertos. November 1st. 2018.

Words and lino cut by the editor.