Down at the Fiddlers

for one the other night
they were asking me:
“Does your old Dutch still chew steak knives?”
I said “No, though she’s still a good sword-swallower.
She’s taken to chewing Scotch Eggs
and she spits the gristly bits
on the waxed parquet
which irks me.”
“Irks?”they said
I said “Yes I feel irked sometimes,
because my espadrilles skid
on minced rectal tissue.”
“How are the kids?”
they said by way of passing time
“They’re fine…just fine
just fine…”


























Dilly Tante

Auntie Dilly
thought she was French but I checked and she came from Cowdenbeath,
the son of a cooked meats producer whose speciality was Scotch Eggs.
The other piece of sauce (well there were many really)
was that she wasn’t a son..more a daughter…and had all the bits to prove it…
its just that daughter didn’t have the same
solid salt-of-the-earth nuance to it ….

Her father had offered her a partnership in the Scotch Egg business
but she said fuck you Pop I’m off to Bourgogne to make andouillettes
(a type of foul-smelling tripe sausage….they say its like eating pig-dung with herbs
but no matter…she didn’t even start that.

She became a life coach.
Life coaching is ideal really.
You can be an expert on  everybody and just stagger through your own life in your spare time.

Four things particularly were important to her.
1. A good hearty breakfast
2. Sky-diving
3. Having unprotected sex with anyone of South East Asian origin.
4. Having unprotected sex with anyone else.
Dilly Tanty often ticked all these boxes in the course of a day
and by the time she was 40 was a plump chlamidia carrier
with the wings of an angel.
She transported herself with panache, purpose
and an electric scooter…

And yes she was a beauty. No question.
No no I never had the hots myself ….in-breeding and all that…
but I knew many who’d filled their nappies at the thought.

Then one day she turned into an old lady
with that hairstyle and suit they all have

Then Dill got ill
Then she was gone
























they call me….that’s
short for shelluva man
an empty hushk
a shadow of my former shelf
when I relished
a shcotch egg sherved with shauerkraut
(delish that dish)
but I don’t mish it….
now in thish multifasheted
a helluva lot easier than fullova…..
jusht feeling
shod all….
big O
wedding ring
toilet seat
hula hoop
lightly fried egg
wait a minute…
I’m feeling shomething…






















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