Fly: Selected Poetry 1997-2017
by Steven Pratt
Link: http://a.co/gQLhF34
The Eternal Festival Of Memory
The sun smiles over the Mary Evens park
bursting through the luminous emerald tree tops
catching soap bubbles with purple green
tin-flashes
no sunglasses or cell phones in sight
all eyes are awake naked
larger than the grey moon peeking on
parkwind blows my view
in a psychedelic rainbow swirl
the musicians swoop down from the air
landing on the stage together, folding their wings
Mick picks up his bass and swings it around
his shoulder in one magic movement
spinning on a diamond encrusted high heel
now facing the crowd with a strategic
frown his beautiful intricate hand made earring
catches the sun and time slows down
silver flashes dart around the marquee
like 10’000 disco-balls
he freezes to form a human statue
bullet time takes us around his every contour
a unique punk dressed head to toe in
original garments beyond the imagination
silks and suede in peacock shades
each centimetre seemingly crafted
with the uppermost care by a legion
of tiny tailors and elf stylists
Mick undresses the mic.
literally, it has four sets of underpants over it:
“hey motherfuckers, our first number is called
NHS in distress. Its a new song to show solidarity with
the doctors and nurses who keep the NHS going,
and outing the dirty rotten bastards who profit from illness.”
He starts up the song…
….Hack the sign, hack the signs…
like Hitchenbrooke baby….
privatisation isn’t working
PRIVATISATION. ISN’T. WORKING”
the speakers deform and a sub bass sound
spills out into the sunshine
the cookie-monster is at the controls
the sound scape zips and zooms through angelic
filters and slowly falls into a melodic
pulse like soft snow flakes on the head
the beats kick in
Cookie beats snapping at heels
programmed and clipped
to skip and ride the sub bass pulse pattern
a devilish smile
hands busy adjusting controls
the crowd sways to the groove breeze
whistles whistle and blow high and loud
all hands are in the air now
Cookie smiles and kisses the sky
the music and colours swirl and warp
Mick chimes in with another lush
bass melody in clockwork
with the cookie groove in sync
and with maximum bass-face
people are dancing and trees
and cars and walls shuffle to the beat
dogs and children and birds and
parents and grandparents all begin to
dance a unique wild wild dance
each different, each a sincere
response to the music
so perfect here
in memory
Mick begins to play
“what fucking conspiracy, you sleeping morons”
and rave builds into a jungle-punk jump up
the music builds further
the whole park begins
to pulsate as if painted on the inside of
a giant set of lungs
A black limo’ pulls into the park
3 men climb out and walk towards
the stage
Ornette Coleman pulls a saxophone
from his jacket while B.B King
opens up his guitar case
shooting the crowd a huge grin
Christopher Lee steps up to the
microphone…
‘Ladies and gentleman,
we are gathered today to celebrate
the fun and good vibes put out by
Mick Wood and Chris Mandrake ‘Cookie’ Cook
Ornette Coleman
B.B King…
and myself.
I don’t know how we got here
or why we’re here
but we have sweet music here at the
eternal festival of memory
play on
Dove sta memoria
“Convergence, everything merging into oneness or becoming an amorphous mass, Veg soup or Salad SHIT–Mick Wood.
“Now I’m a bit ill. but ten years ago today 250,000 were alot dead so lets just give them and their families a thought. now. (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Indian_Ocean_earthquake_and_tsunami)–Mick Wood.
“ravers no longer carry the standard whistle and no one puts their hands in the air anymore, wha gwan–Cookie
“my tunes, listen to them, leave your comment and then fuckoff–Cookie
“H&M and Welcome Break are among 37 companies named and shamed today for failing to pay the minimum wage. It’s time for all companies to step up and make sure they’re at least meeting this minimum standard. Spread the word if you agree.–38degrees. Posted By Mick Wood.
