Never Seconds

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Given half a chance,
my blood can boil with rage,
but now it tingles with excitement,
all thanks to the beauty of poetry,
the kindness of alcoholics
and the love of God,
but not in that order.

The front page of the Independent
would have been enough
to trick me into a drink
and a spliff
and unceremonious blackout,
but not this time.

A nine-year old Scotch lass,
happily posting her blog
‘Never Seconds’,
complete with pictures of her
skeletal school lunches,
had been banned from releasing
photographic evidence
of the sick excuse
known as school dinners.

Her head had marched her away
from class
and ordered her never to blog again
so she posted her final blog,
‘Goodbye’.

But that wasn’t that.

Messers Oliver and Prescott
led the revolt,
and within hours
the ban was lifted
by her scheming,
servile,
slavish
local council.

My Dad is on his deathbed
this Father’s Day
because he has something
on his lung
so they can’t operate
on his hip,
but nothing will stop him shrieking
‘My son wrote that book!’
on his bedside table
in Cape Town.

It’s all come full-circle;
connected.

Finally, he’s proud of me.

I visited Mum today,
after coming second
only to Fifty Shades of Grey
at Waterstones Basingstoke.

I wanted to tell Mum the good news,
knowing full well
she wouldn’t understand tuppence,
but what the hell!
Good news is good news
and she loves to see me smile.

One of the other ladies there
doesn’t like it
when I stroke my mother’s face
and cheeks
and hands.

I always wet
a ball of tissue
when I arrive
because she’s always got something
round her chops.

Mum pleaded, ‘You know I love you’
with tormented eyes,
and so I replied,
‘and you know I love you’;
volley-bubbles
of love and loss,
back and forth
without end.

We sat and gazed
into each other’s eyes,
as you do,
and the old lady
saw her moment.

‘Oh my God. Look at them,
at it again.
She’s your mother,
not your bloomin’ girlfriend’.

She sometimes says
I look like her son,
but I’ve never met him.

I try to tell myself
it’s the dementia talking
but it’s a cruel illness
and it won’t stop the cruel
from speaking their illness.

Mum and I had tea and biscuits
and then I heard something
like gravel
bobbling on the table.

She had pulled
a rotten tooth
from her mouth
and placed it there
without expression,
like a cat at dusk’s doorstep.

‘Well done, Mum,’ I said,
quick to remove myself
from shock,
and grateful
she hadn’t swallowed it
or chewed on it.

It was a molar,
roots and all,
mottled and caked
in shortbread
so I cleaned it with a tissue
and wrapped it up.

When I gave it to the nurse,
she said,
‘I’ll give it to the tooth fairy.’

In the car home
with John Lennon
howling
screaming
bellowing
‘Mama don’t go,
Daddy come home’
over and over,
I was in good company.

Discuss this piece in the abctales forum


Comments

Linda Wigzell Cress | June 17, 2012 - 01:28

Oh mate what a great chronicle.Sad, mad, and then scarily sane . And How come a 9 year old was allowed a mobile phone/camera about her person in a primary school?
Linda

blighters rock | June 17, 2012 - 10:18

Thanks for reading, Linda.
It's time I started on your Saucepans series and will get on it soon.
I suppose the girl could have had a digital camera and not a phone, but whatever it was, her act of selfishness shows great initiative in stirring a melting pot of cost-cutting deceit and ignorance.
I only wish a care-home child wpuld record his/her neglect and bring to light the appalling service grinded out.
These are days when photo evidence is the only way to be believed and I applaud the little girl who rightly saw fit to question the nutritional value of her food, which her parents have to pay for. If I am served rubbish in a restaurant I just dont pay. That freedom is not afforded by failing local councils, and neither is this girl's freedom of expression.

Stan | June 17, 2012 - 11:11

This one hits hard, mate. You've put it all in there. The outrage, the pain, the grief, the love... and, in the undertones, the hope. So close to home for me, too. One I'll come back to.

And regarding your comment on care homes... in five years of working in special needs care homes, I witnessed enough abuse to last me. It took me straight back to the playground fear. If I could go back in now, it would be with voice recorder and camcorder secreted about my person, so that I could catch these clever b******s and nail them once and for all. The worst offenders always seem to get away with it because they know how to play the system - like all bullies.

blighters rock | June 17, 2012 - 11:27

You're right, Stan. The clever ones are the ones that smile when confronted, but up against authority they're as meek and obedient as lamb and have a measured answerfor everything. They protect themselves with consummate ease and like all shit rise effortlessly to the top and are usually the ones in charge before long.
The govt are thinking of doing a costly internet probe into paedophilia anf economic fraud, but David Davies has already rightly pointed out that the real crooks are too well protected and that marginal porn-users and the like will be exposed, which smacks of the police's policy on drug dealing.
Still, they are the largest supplier of narcotics and money launderers in the country so it's hardly surprising.

blighters rock | June 17, 2012 - 11:28

Thanks for t'cherries, eds

Stan | June 17, 2012 - 11:45

Richard - I don't want to hijack the thread for this wonderful poem, but... one of the most notorious and vile bullies I ever worked with was Deputy Manager at the home. He was reported several times - by staff and residents - and his understanding of both company and official procedures was abysmal. In recent years, he's been suspended twice pending investigations into abuse. Bottom line: he still works in his job, with the same grin on his face he always had.

blighters rock | June 17, 2012 - 12:10

Hi Stan,
no one can ever hijack a thread, only add to the tapestry!
I know what you mean and the state should step in but they don't so the abuse continues.
If just one in ten of the good people rallied together to oust the bad ones, who represent a measly percent or two, the state would have no alternative but to rid us of the criminals with clout forever.
That said, where and how would they feed their illness thereafter, and whom would they target?
Strong long-term measures need to be taken against the perps.

Stan | June 17, 2012 - 12:17

Yep... as always, though, it's the burden of proof. That's why spies are needed with recording equipment. Otherwise - as I found - it's just my word against theirs. The so-called Whistle-blowing policy isn't worth the paper it's written on.

When I was considering emigrating to Canada, I wanted to stay in care work. I found out a few things there, though! Even with years of experience and qualifications - they won't even let you near a home out there unless you've had the proper training under their much more rigorous standards. Over here, if you're 18 and have a clean CRB and POVA and POCA checks, you're in. Crazy.

PS: I know I'm slow... but I've only just worked something out regarding your name. I always thought 'I wonder where Blighter's Rock is? Probably a geographical feature in the Oz outback or something.' Until I Spoonerized it! Writer's Block. Brilliant!

blighters rock | June 17, 2012 - 12:36

I thank God for the Asian community in this country. They have an in-built culture of care and never get flustered but paradoxically they never rise up the ladder to management so they are often headhunted by neighbouring privately run care homes and move on for better money, which is understandable as they're not saints.
Most care-home management would be better placed as organisers of tupperware parties or as shelf-fillers. They seem to screw everything they do up as if it's meant to be screwed up. They are categorically unfit for purpose, and the general staff are left running around correcting their mistakes.
Once initiated (there has to be heavy turnover of management/switching care homes in-house to prolong the financial deception), the management are easily manipulated by the powers (PFI) and as their tetchy conscience wears thinner and thinner, they become woven into the illness.
The state use the Asians as nothing more than cheap labour and never offer contracts other than those that aren't worth the paper they're written on.

shoe | June 17, 2012 - 13:00

It's all been said about this poem and I agree with it all, So I'll only add congratulations on your book doing so well, very good news indeed. :)

Linda Wigzell Cress | June 17, 2012 - 18:50

hi again. Just to say I agree it would be great to have more photographic evidence of abuse etc in care homes - a subject I have had to face recently. On the clever little girl photographing dinners, few primary schools allow kids to bring in mobiles, and there have been for some time strict rules about cameras in school. e.g. , Teachers now have to get specisl permission to take class photos because of fear of abuse and paedophiles. What a sad world this is. And I so empathise with the latter part of your poem concerning care for the elderly. Such a worry, the whole system needs overhauling. And by the way, I do not deal in Saucepans, that is obviously someone much more domesticated than me. I am Puddle Pixies amongst other things! Linda

alibob | June 18, 2012 - 11:32

Another powerful poem, Richard. And Stan, I'm even slower than you on the Blighter's Rock/Writer's Block thing! Thanks for solving the mystery.

blighters rock | June 18, 2012 - 12:29

Hi Stan,
You were on the money with your own interpretation of Blighters' Rock. I imagine it to be in the outback too, a place for 19th century English sheep-thieves who continued to displease the authorities, placed there to starve to death, the name perhaps re-marketed by a wily Aussie wine-maker.
I can see the billboard now, 'Blighters' Rock, the subtle Shiraz perfect with lamb.'
Good to hear back from you, Linda. That little deserves a medal, doesn't she! You're right, it's a sad world when we're all put in the same category as the sickos. The CEOP seem to be acting on recent revelations but it seems all too strange that abuse needed to be unearthed when it never went away. Let's make them do their work this time. It's high time.
Thanks for saying that, Shoe. Library services are loving it too and I keep having to pinch myself.
Thanks for reading, Alison, and for bringing to light the power of flash fiction.
I love this site.

maggyvaneijk | June 18, 2012 - 12:39

So many layers to this epic poem Richard, fast, cutting and often heartbreaking.

blighters rock | June 18, 2012 - 20:35

Thanks alot for reading, Maggy.

scratch | July 1, 2012 - 22:03

Shit hot Richard m'boy blinking well done.