Detroit Bridge by Night, Salford Quays

texted mobile rapping - a log

texted mobile rapping between Ross Purchase & Gary Knapton in 2011: turned-based word association and singles;

I saw Quentin Tarantino read a copy of the Beano

in a Manchester casino with his chips on number three

I said “Comics come in handy

I myself prefer the Dandy

It’s a cracking little fly swat and can also kill a bee”.


Tarantino lost his chips and so was gouging salsa dips

that had been spiked with Esso four star from a well in Aberdeen once it got

smuggled in as cargo by a speeding Greta Garbo

and the Dangermouse voice-over guy who fancies Gary Breen


Gary Breen was doubled over in a crack house down in Dover

after four long lines of charlie and a big bowl of ice cream

R2D2’s squeaking catalized his ears to leaking

as he sped off on his Harley like his hero Barry Sheen

…...........


A Jew from Nova Scotia ate some meat that wasn’t Kosher

so he dipped his face in razor blades and severed half his tongue

then took a direct flight to Aston

broke his leg and got a cast on

after saving first half penalties from cup-tied Ashley Young


Ashley Young looked in the mirror

staring back he saw Godzilla eating tubes of polyfilla

after several vats of rum

the scoffing and the drinking and the thoughts the beast was thinking

started poor old Ashley shrinking to the size of Tom Thumb


Tom Thumb was in the shower humming songs like Fight The Power

when an infrastructure black-out pitched his bathroom into dark so then he

started touring Texas in a beige Toyota Lexus

and enrolled to do a PHD with Dr Miriam Stark


Miriam Stark was learning about butter and how churning

pulls ingredients together and allows the mix to set.

Armed with her new knowledge that she gained from Salford College

she skipped to have a butter scone with best friend Boba Fett


Postman Pat and Boba got geared up in Paul Smith clobber

proper sinking pints of Guinness watching Skins re-runs on Sky and big style

pigging on a hot cross bun when copperhead Anne Robinson

yelled “Boba, with six votes, you are the weakest link. Goodbye!”

…......

I’ve been flying round the quays with home-made jet packs on my knees

and I’ve got all the other joggers looking up at me in awe

so if I make it to the Odeon from my Abito podium

in eighteen seconds flat I’ll catch directors cuts of Saw

............

Lennie Godber playing Judo beating Reverend Green from Cluedo

who had teamed up with the keyboard man from Ocean Colour Scene.

He’d just been sacked before the break up and was

doing hair & make-up for a lady boy who looked like

Helen Mirren in The Queen.

...........

type-pad rhythm sent to Staurt Lovegrove in 2005/2006 and again between Ross Purchase and I in 2011;

........

texted mobile rapping is a symptom of the century

like London-style androgeny and mid-week lotto wins

apply the birch then go to church

was how our rich ancestral heritage

made off with all the potency of decadent sins

......

i'm downing Stella with a fella who thinks

Dont Look Back in Anger was an A. LLoyd Webber musical that closed in '93

and starred Si Cowell in a towel

and a geezer from New Delhi who was once banged up for mincing

like a killer queen bee

.....

I saw Bill Gates at Brighton station camping off like Larry Grayson

with a facial-pierced up skin-head of a bloke who was his bird

I said "hey, d'ya need a hand Bill ?"

but he fell into the landfill with his

flabbergasted boyfriend screaming "Microsoft Word!!!"

.....

us local Preston villagers are nowt but rape n pillagers

we're slicing up the sea front

it's a game of cat and mouse

with the police units still tagging us and

national press still slagging us

we're dancing with the Brighton lads to mega-hard house

.....

that ain't rapping that's phone-key tapping

now i'm blowing up your mouth i'm like something else

i'm getting silly like Billy Jean King

my rap's frilly

and I'm snorting as i'm walking eating tuna melts

.....

i'm sat with Paddy the Jihadi and three bombers from the Palestine

they're sinking jugs of hot mulled wine and kneeling down on felt and

praying frantically to Mecca

dulcet tones of Carol Decker mean his iPod wire

is wrapped around his dynamite belt

.....

i'm well bushed up like Skippy

and my head is pretty flippy

one mo I'm having breakfast in a cafe with Mum

next, I'm flying over Preston

on an old spaghetti Western coloured log

with Charlton Heston

on a banging bass drum

.....

submissive is the man. pester!

i'm floating i'm in Manchester

the ganja boat at fourth canal still bangs out afro weed

it's good it's bad it's filthy trippy

i'm in rainbow playing zippy

i'm the old man in the village on a wrap of bad speed

....

Between Ross Purchase and I in 2011;

....

Friends of Isaac Newton sat round talking to a toucan

on the vanishing of Lucan and the way things used to be.

I'm observing all these misfits with their coffee and their biscuits

and it seems amongst their favourites is a crunchy Rich Tea!

I'm sat with Jedward, Noel Coward, Cher, JR and Russell Howard,

Tim Brooke-Taylor, Lester Piggott and that bird who works with Jo.

We're playing bingo, speaking Latin, sending Morse code to Mike Gatting

who got blitzed last night in Wetherspoons with Tore Andre Flo

Leeds fan Gary Knapton in a Rolls Royce parked in Clapton

wearing purple crotchless panties and a peek-a-boo bra

sat there dreaming of the old days slipping back into his old ways

and remembering his anger at the sale of Cantona!

your next door neighbour Hector is a Nazi Hannibal Lecter

who's been turning all the women into human organ toast

and so my spine received a shiver when Camilla lost her liver

and it hit the Quay House specials board as Danish Sunday roast

I'm down in Joseph Fritzl's cellar tied to MP David Mellor

and our bodies move in tandem as we try to fray the knot

Will I ever leave this basement ?

Am I Joseph's new replacement ?

And I'm lost in my confusion in a land that time forgot!

I made my hair look pretty and went up to Shopping City

there's a two-for-one on Kevlar vests at Poundland in the mall

then descended on The Emirates with other Leeds degenerates

and pulverized the North Bank with a bullet-proof ball

My next door neighbour Brian came round snarling like a lion

I was blasting out Kasabian and banging on the wall

I said "I think you'd better leave it, mate. It's 5pm it isn't late

I'll smash your two front teeth in son you're riding for a fall!"

Read All About It! Shaun Ryder formed a band called Manc Al Qaeda

playing Wrote For Luck in Ordsall with his drug-fuelled dosser chums

believing he can get to heaven if he does a 9/11

flying Semtex Subway sandwiches into the Salford slums

to be continued....

Danegeld

The stone age brought the farmers

And the bronze age brought the miners

And the iron age fashionistas wore fine clothes and pierced their skins

Then the Pictish were in Pictland

And the Scotti were the Irish

Add the Celtic and the Gaels

You've got the British for their sins

But the Romans then invaded

And their soldiers came from Belgium

And from Holland and Bulgaria and eastward all around

They spoke Latin and were literate

Eleven kings surrendered

But the queen of old East Anglia burnt London to the ground

They built roads and walls and left

And then the immigrants from Germany

Moved in and pushed the British to the west

And to the north

Their German name was "English" and they

Took over the south and called it England

It's a tribal mess

The Scotti then came forth

They took slaves from way up north and called it "Scotland"

After Ireland

While the English called the British "Wealhish" pushing them out west

And the Wealhish are the Welsh which just means "foreigner" in Saxon

But still no one managed to work out which tribe of all is best

Then the Vikings came from Denmark and took York, Lincoln and Dublin

And the English who were beaten paid them Danegeld as a bribe

And the Vikings looked quite handy

'Til the Normans beat the Anglo-Danish army

Down in Hastings

So we add another tribe

But the island is quite small and now the Welsh and Celts are westward

And the Scottish are up north above the British in the hills

Who are out west from the Vikings

Who sit north over the English

Who are learning to act "Norman"

Because Norman pays the bills

But King Richard is a Frenchman

And the Stewarts are all Scottish

And the monarchy is German

From Victoria to George

It's ironic

Although "English" is a German word

It's meaningless

There's no identity from the word "English" you can forge

We English are the foreigners who kicked out all the locals

Since we really have no homeland like the pre-Ben-Gurion Jews

We even colonised the British

We're a fake, a fraud, an image

When an Englishman shouts "cobblers"

It's because he stole your shoes

When the English talk "indigenous" it's lack of education

It's the Daily Sport / Big Brother-soaked up slothful planted seed

They won't look into the mirror 'cause the mirror shines the truth right back

They won't pick up the books 'cause you need self-respect to read

The English claiming England

Is like Ireland claiming Scotland

Or the Danish charging Danegeld for the last one thousand years

When Nick Griffin talks of "races"

It's not sadness it's hilarity

Why most of us with half a brain are rolling round in tears.

Sunset over Manchester from Salford

geography

walking hand in hand with you around the waters edge

me leading

i made for the old Pomona docks

maybe hoping that it’s demise would reflect back on you

the state of our bond

fallen

i weaved the conversation down a grave blind alley and told you

making eye contact for the first time that day

silence boomed and the sun set as your realisation dawned

i saw the ice in your eyes

your heartbeat all over my ears like a faint bass drum

you flicker-smiled and asked for more

but there was no more

no more of a truth that ended

did you notice how they’d cut the shrubs down on the opposite

bank leaving Ordsall staring back at Hulme ?

did you notice how kids had made a rope swing on the wrought

iron of the Colgate pagoda

or the blue man on the bench with one glove ?

do you notice yet the sunsets that I love or how beauty is

everywhere, waiting for you to look ?

in summer all this will seem different even though it’s not

and what we shared will still be there

built into us

virally embedded and bitter as the cud

preparing and changing us for the new now

for there is not nor ever was a future

just joined on instances of now

like where we choose or choose not to live

was never just a question of geography

GK 26/01/11

South Bay Colour Symphony: Salford Quays

No Words

way back before words man belonged here like animal

and lived with open eyes

in wonder

in failing to define he didn’t have the tools to judge

and so sat

lost in sheer appreciation

colour and shape, preceding words, became embedded as currency

seeing was feeling

every grain

to see was to be on a sensuous plane

no thoughts

for words are the meat of thoughts

and no memories

for thoughts are the water of memories

no past

for memories are the windows of past

and no future

for the past is the corollary of future

and see-saws with it away from now

shallow theft

to see a plant and think “plant”

reducing all that gracious presence to a monosyllabic noise

and never again to gape

immersed in splendour

what an opportunity missed!

to think and judge and move away unmoved

knowing that once man lived at one with the fish and the birds

until he grew dumb

with words