What could I say to that?
At first, I go,
‘No no, it’s all right.’
But he goes,
‘No, come on – I’ll lend you a hand.’
So I say, ‘OK’
and he comes over and he helped me.
He’s sitting there right next to me,
my enemy,
showing me how to do my sums.
Then he said,
‘Now you try,’
and then I could do them.
So there I was, friends with him,
grateful,
I’m saying, ‘Thanks. Thanks for helping me.’
But in the back of my mind,
I know something
THE TWIG WAS STILL IN THE BED.
I didn’t know what to say.
All I could see was
THE TWIG
sitting in his bed
just where his feet would get it.
Even if I went and got it out
there’d still be a heap of dirty prickly bits
left in his bed,
after he’s showed me how to get all the sums right.
So I go,
‘Look – when you go to bed –
tonight
there’ll be a twig in your bed.’
So he goes,
‘A twig in my bed? A twig in my bed?
How did it get there then?’
So I say,
‘I put it there.’
And my mum and dad heard that.
So my dad goes,
‘You put a twig in his bed?
Did I hear that right?
You put a twig in his bed, might I ask
Why did you put a twig in his bed?’
And I just couldn’t say.
I just sat there like a lemon.
I couldn’t say it was to pay him back for
telling on me about the watch
because they wouldn’t think there was anything wrong
with him doing that.
So I just sat there
and then I said,
‘I don’t know.’
What a stupid thing to say.
My dad goes,
‘You don’t know why you put a twig in his bed?
You don’t know why?
The boy’s going mad.
First thing he does is smash up his watch
and next thing
he’s going round stuffing a twig in people’s beds.
He’s going stark staring mad, I tell you.’
I didn’t think I was going mad.
And I don’t think my brother did.
I bet he knew why I put
a twig in his bed…
LIZZIE
When I was eleven
there was Lizzie.
I used to think this:
You don’t care, Lizzie,
you say
that you’re a ginger-nut
and you don’t care.
I’ve noticed
that they try to soften you up
they say
you’re clumsy
they say
you can’t wear shorts
to school
but you say,
‘I don’t care,
I mean
how can I play football
in a skirt?’
Lizzie,
I’m afraid of saying
I think you’re great
because, you see,
the teachers call you
tomboy.
I’m sorry
but I make out, as if
I agree with the teachers
and the other girls
wear bracelets
and I’ve noticed
they don’t shout like you
or whistle,
and, you see,
the other boys
are always talking about
those girls
with the bracelets
So I do too.
So I know
that makes me a coward
but that’s why I don’t dare
to say you’re great,
but I think it to myself
when you’re there
but I don’t say.
I just try to show
I like you
by laughing
and joking about
and pulling mad faces.
I’m sorry
but I don’t suppose
you’ll ever know…
EDDIE AND THE GERBILS
Not long ago
we went on holiday with some people
who’ve got gerbils.
We haven’t got any pets
and Eddie (he was two years old)
he thought they were
WONDERFUL.
He was always looking in their cage
going,
‘Hallo gerbils, hallo gerbils, hallo gerbils.’
And when the boys took them out of the cage
Eddie loved stroking them,
going,
‘Hallo gerbils, hallo gerbils, hallo gerbils,’
all over again.
Now,
when we got home from the holiday
Like I said,
we haven’t got any pets.
What we’ve got, is
MICE.
So we wanted to get rid of them.
So we rang up the council to ask for the mouse-man
to come over and get rid of them.
The mouse-man.
That’s not a man who is a mouse.
Silly,
it’s a man who comes over
and he goes round
sniffing along the walls
and behind cupboards
to find where the mice go.
Then he puts down these little trays of poison,
only the mice don’t know it’s poison,
they think it’s some really nice stuff
like biscuits.
And this poison
it burns them up from the inside
And they just die.
The dead ones pong a bit.
The bloke puts down little trays of this poison
and the mice find it and go,
‘Wow. This looks really tasty stuff,’
gobble gobble gobble
clunk. Dead.
gobble gobble gobble
clunk.
So one morning we’re having breakfast
and when Eddie has breakfast
sometimes he sits at the table
sometimes he sits on the table
sometimes he sits under the table.
Well,
this particular morning
he was sitting under the table.
So I’m eating my breakfast
munch munch munch
and suddenly I hear
‘Hallo gerbils.’
‘Uh?’ Ignore it. Munch munch munch.
‘Hallo gerbils.’
Better have a look.
Oh no.
He’s got a dead mouse in his hand.
Clutching it.
Head poking out the top of his fist
tail out the bottom.
And he’s stroking it.
The dead mouse.
And he’s going,
‘Hallo gerbils hallo gerbils hallo gerbils.’
I go,
‘No Eddie, No Eddie. It’s not a gerbil.
It’s a mouse. A dead mouse.’
And he shakes his head and he goes,
‘Na na. Gerbils.’
‘No, Eddie. Give it here.’
So I took hold of it.
By the tail.
And I took it over to the bin
and he’s following behind me on his little legs
and I dropped it in the bin
and he comes over to the bin too
and he looks up, all sad.
And he goes,
‘Oh.
Bye bye gerbils.’
FRIED EGG
When you have a fried egg
and the yellow bit – the yolk –
is all runny
and it spills on to the plate
how do you clean it off your
plate?
With your knife or your fork?
I once said to my brother,
‘I bet a fork’s best.’
And he said,
‘I bet a knife’s best.’
So we scraped and scraped
and I was sure,
in fact I could see as plain as
plain can see
that my fork had done it better
than his knife.
‘Mine’s best,’ I said.
‘Mine’s best,’ he said.
‘No mine is,’ I said.
‘No mine is,’ he said.
‘Mum, whose is best?’ I said.
She looked at the plates.
‘I think they’re just about the
same,’ she said.
I didn’t say anything,
I just knew that she was wrong.
My fork was better than his
knife for getting
egg-yolk off plates.
It was as simple as that.
It made me so angry.
I thought,
‘Why doesn’t he admit it?
I know he knows mine is best.’
BATHTIME
Quite often
my mum used to say to me:
‘Isn’t it time you had a bath?’
and I’d say:
‘But I had one yesterday.’
‘No you didn’t,’ she’d say.
‘Well – the day before yesterday, then,’ I’d say.
‘Right,’ she says – ‘I’ll run the water.
You be ready to get in when it’s full.’
So when
the bathroom was full of steam
I was ready to climb in.
One thing though –
I never get into a bath
bold and bare all over. You see,
a bath is part of the water world
and I always like to keep in touch with the dry world
till the last possible moment.
So what I do, is take off all my clothes
except my vest.
I step over and in – how’s that? Owah!
as hot as feet can bear.
I kneel down
as hot as knees can bear. Oh!
Down a bit, down a bit
as hot as bottom can bear. Oooph!
Sit for one moment in the water world
with my last dry thing still on –
then, vest off, over the edge, out of sight
and I slide the rest of me into the water.
I have stepped from the dry world to the wet world.
I am now a water beast.
I’m miles away from dry places like
blankets and dust,
carpets, hats and paper,
straw and cake.
I’m a wet thing that slips and slides,
lips that burble in the ripples.
My skin can shine like fish
and my hands can twist the water into ringlets
that show up on the bottom of the bath.
I am a wet thing.
It’s films time; I say:
‘There was once a time
when the whole world was water,
and it was all still. But then –
Beneath the surface,
great movements troubled the waters…”
(as I say this I wriggle about a bit in the bath)
‘… and from out of the deeps –
there rose – islands…’
(I stick one knee out of the water)
‘… mountains…’
(I stick the other knee out)
‘… and great sandbanks.’
(that’s my belly lifting)
‘On one such wet shore came – LIFE.’
(I make my fingers walk out of the water
and across my belly.)
The steam
has now settled on the walls
and there are dots of water there,
getting together, ganging up,
becoming drips.
Drips get too big to stop where they are
and slip.
Now,
what if I helped a gang of dots
with a flick of water from out of the bath?
Flick my finger and thumb. PLIP!
and the dots become a drip,
the drip begins to slip.
Another PLIP! More dots become a drip –
another drip begins to slip.
It’s a race!
‘Welcome back to Bathroom for the
Big Downfall Drip Race…
and it’s Dropso – yes it’s Dropso
away to a great start well ahead from
Longbottom with the long bottom
in second place near the pipes.
It’s Dropso from Longbottom. Dropso from Longbottom.
Dropso in fine form
heading hard for a gang of dots.
Longbottom behind – slow but steady
taking in the dots one by one,
Dropso fairly tearing down the wall has –
no, yes, no –
swung sideways, staggered across the wall,
dived into another gang of dots
and is now, is now bulged up like a ripe plum
ready to plunge to victory –
Longbottom still slow. Still oh so slow.
No. I lie.
Plucky little Longbottom with the long bottom
picking up now, picking up dots
picking up – bulging, bulging.
Old Dropso has stuck. Is this wise?
And it’s plucky Longbottom gushing like a very mountain
torrent
now closing up the gap on the drooping Dropso.
This could be dangerous.
Longbottom nosediving right on to droopy Dropso’s tracks.
Longbottom is slipping helplessly along Dropso’s trail.
It’s going to be a crash.
It is a crash.
Longbottom has dropped on to Dropso. It’s a drop-on.
A drop-on. What a scene! Fantastic.
What an end –
no race but plenty of thrills.
From Bathroom – back to you in London.’
Now where’s that flannel?
On with more bathtime business.
Watch this!
You take the flannel.
Open it up square.
Hang it up from its corners in front of you,
with both hands – like a picture.
Then, flop it down
flat smack on the water to float.
Now take one hand beneath the surface of the water
under the flannel.
Point your fingers upwards,
make your hand like a tower.
Lift this tower-hand up into the floating flannel.
Lift the flannel just a bit out of the water.
Stop.
Feel the flannel suck round your fingers.
Looks a bit like a head – someone swimming?
With a head-scarf on…
Now, grab the flannel head around its neck.
‘Help! It’s a snake. It’s got me round the neck. Aaargh.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Aaaargh.’
The snake drags the head slowly down below the surface.
Take your free hand – the one that isn’t the snake.
Grab the head, now it’s underwater and – squeeze.
All the air trapped in the flannel bubbles up.
Blubble bubble bulbybobble bopbopbopbopbopbop.
‘You remember JAWS – THE TERROR OF THE DEEP!
NOW! SNAKE – THE TERROR OF THE BATH!’
By now
after these adventures
there are colder currents in the bath.
So it’s tidal wave time.
Get under and slide down the bath.
Slide back slide down slide back down back
ffoom ffomp ffoom ffomp ffoom ffomp
Big wave
to and fro and
grab the side. BRAKES ON.
‘The two-hundred-foot wave engulfs the cold water tap
and the overflow hole.
Millions of gallons of sea-water plunge over the edge
and cascades more pour out of the overflow
into the yard outside.’
Suddenly comes:
‘Have you finished in there?’
The door opens. It’s Mum.
‘What are you doing?
The floor is covered in water and you haven’t even touched
the soap.
You’ve been in here for nearly half an hour.
What have you been doing?’
‘I was a snake. There was a race. And then there was a tidal
wave, Mum.’
‘Well your father’s just home and he says he got soaked
from the overflow pipe as he was coming in the door.’
‘That was the tidal wave, Mum.’
‘Oh was it? Now you get out of there quick or you’ll turn
into a sponge.’
‘Would I?’
‘Well, look at your hands. You’ve begun already. Now
come on out of there.’
I look at them. She’s right. They’ve turned into wrinkly
white sponges.
Just think of that.
Staying in a bath so long
you turn into a sponge.
It’s time to come back to the dry world.
Towel, pyjamas, sheets, blankets.
Bed.
WISE ONE
Wise one, wise one
how long is a piece of string?
Twice as long as half its length.
Wise one, wise one
how do you kill a snake?
Put its tail in its mouth
and it’ll eat itself up.
Wise one, wise one
What’s at the end of a cat’s tail?
A cat.
Wise one, wise one
How can I get a chick out of a boiled egg?
Feed it to the chicken
so it can lay it again.
Wise one, wise one
Why do bricklayers put mortar on bricks?
To keep the bricks together
and to keep the bricks apart.
Wise one, wise one
My parrot talks too much.
Give it a good book to read.
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