Introduction

From his book "Inert Activity"

Wardrobe Memorabilia

Mum were in the kitchen cuttin'
Lily Tappet's hair
whilst I attempted wallpaperin'
beneath our cluttered stair,
when suddenly me elbow nudged
against the electric box
allowin' Mum to cut off more
than just poor Lily's locks

For in the dark she abbreviated
Lily's left earlobe
thus, red stuff poured upon the floor
-and over Mum's wardrobe
which had blatantly refused to go
upstairs to Mum's bedroom,
and so 'twere utilized to house the veg,
the hoover and stiff broom.

We dismantled our old oak bannister
and ripped out half a wall
but a week's blood, sweat and tears confirmed:
"It's still stuck in the hall!"
So we set about the kitchen door
and took apart the jamb
and thus it came to be located
with the aid of a hydraulic ram-

And there it stood covered in blood
from Lily Tappet's ear
that gave a subtle contrast against
its waxed walnut veneer
-that holds a hoard of memories of
erotica and food,
like parsnips, swedes and brussels sprouts,
Beryl Glazer bein' screwed

For Mum had gone away that week
with Aunt Blodwyn to Torquay
so I invited Beryl round for a bite
of Battenburg cake and tea;
but me favourite marzipaned Battenburg
she scuttled in a tick
so too me Cherry Bakewell tarts
and meringue, 'til she were sick.

She then set about the Andrews tin
and Mum's bicarbonate soda,
and left our bathroom's atmosphere
thick with a hideous odour.
We settled down on the bed-settee
and things became quite hearty
'til she leapt upon her size twelve feet
and announced "let's have a party!"

Afore I'd chance to air me views
in waltzed all her mates
with bags of crisps and party hats,
bottles, cans and crates.
I saw no more of bicarbed Beryl
until about midnight,
havin' fought me way to the kitchen sink
to unload some cans of light

As from behind the wardrobe door
came burps and farts and "more!"
and there were Beryl bein' screwed
by the Butcher, Bert Trubshaw.
Anyway, there it stood with Lily's blood
runnin' down its side
as her earlobe flew among the chips
and, in due course, it were fried.

This electrical mishap completely ruined
me Mum's new strapless dress
and left poor Lily a nervous wreck,
in an absolute bloody fine mess.
She came in as a fair complexioned,
pink-lipped buxom blonde
and went out rouge, with hair the colour
of the goldfish in her pond.

She were kept sedate for several weeks
followin' this ordeal
and now she no longer calls me Eph,
instead it's "Imbecile!"
The wardrobe since has been converted
to an open-planned rabbit hutch
and on the electric box beneath our stair
hangs a warnin' 'DO NOT TOUCH!'

Copyright; Ephraim Crud
Email: s.brotherton@btopenworld.com
Web Site: http://mysite.freeserve.com/EphraimCrud/