… it is sitting on my desktop, but it is not this one:
Postcard From Beyond The Looking Glass
I said goodbye to sanity one Thursday late in June.
I kissed it fondly on the cheek and gave it a balloon.
It soared into the clear blue sky under a gibbous moon.
I shed a melancholic tear and sang a mournful tune.
I parted from reality, after a pipe or two,
And surfed across dimensions on a wave of Irish stew,
The recipe for which was told me by an old gnu,
In transit on a scooter to romantic rendezvous.
The first postcard I sent en route to Lunacy was dear,
I bought it in a Kasbah in a back street in Tangier,
From five performing oysters with a taste for Yorkshire beer,
And all with accents from the county of North Lanarkshire.
They demonstrated how to knit spaghetti whilst asleep;
A skill that’s underrated by the chaps who stick to sheep.
But though I practised, soon I found the learning curve too steep,
And sadly was not able to achieve that quantum leap.
In Marrakech, engaged upon a deadly game of chance
With exiled semi-house trained right wing cobblers from France,
I rolled the dice to win and leave the boot merchants askance,
As with a flirty cheese plant in a tango off I danced.
The last postcard was sent just as the cheese plant let me down;
She left me for some big shot from the richer part of town.
And at the time I thought that in self-pity I would drown,
But found salvation hiding underneath an eiderdown.
It’s hard to unicycle with a duvet on your back,
And so I hopped the last bit quoting Proust, Poe and Balzac.
And with my fellow wanderers, met down a cul-de-sac,
Where we were told strife, woe and angst could all soon be unpacked.
The terminal provided for the weary and confused,
Was furnished quite eclectically to calm and keep amused
The screw deficient travellers, who wandered and perused
The waiting room in search of comfy chairs on which to snooze.
My life now is anomalous, with chaos everywhere,
But I’ve made most uncommon friends, and what we have we share.
I spend my time with Baxter, an eccentric white March hare,
And I am happy here beyond the looking glass somewhere …
wish you were here!
Published in My Camel’s Name Is Brian (TMB Books 2015)