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Life Imitates Art 2

A. Pope

Monday, February 3rd, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It was an airy January day
When the motor car went upon its way
No carriage of gild could run any smoother
Than the Renault car they call the Laguna.
The car travelled well, all free from sad Harm
Until it arrived at the Groundwell Farm,
Concreted landskip, Industrial State,
Whose quick march of progress I will now relate.
The streets are apt named after Engineers,
Inventors sublime who have no fit Peer.
Richardo Arkwright, George Stephenson,
Hargreaves, of course, but no Jenny, she spun,
And the march of quick Progress it now was down bound.
For the Renault Laguna it chose to break down,
And 2 hours ticked past till a Truck due arrived,
A Hatter’s supporter from Luton did drive
Us back through the past to the fair town of Stroud,
(No weaving in homes is there now allowed)
Luton conceded but Swindon sweet scored,
Not one but two goals and both Early Doors.
I re-read the journal and Rape of the Lock,
My wife took the clippers, my hair for to dock,
I re-read these lines so fitting and apt,
My wife listened in, relentlessly rapt,
“The peer now spreads the glittering forfex wide,
T’inclose the lock; now joins it to divide…
Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend th’affrighted skies”
My wife took the clippers, a four for to try,
But the number 4 clipper through air it did fly,
But my wife carried on, the cutting not stalled,
And one side of my head was left cold and bald;
Trish screamed like Belinda and held her faint heart,
“See”, I replied, “how life mimics art.”

© A. Pope

Notes

Penned in my Twickenham grottoe – how are Brentford getting on?

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/life-imitates-art-2/