Monday, 21 October 2013

2 Baz poems

Baz and the Impersonal Theory

My fist is just a vessel
Through  which my anger passes
But is untouched by it.

What like T.S.Eliot?, I ask.

Didn’t he write
That musical ‘Cats?’
He replies.

Well yes…or at least…

So did he not like cats?

Well yes… I guess so

A bit anthropomorphic…Cats…
He raises a quizzical eyebrow
Which indicates he is very proud
That he has used that word.

A bit, I hesitantly reply

Especially Elaine Paige.

Baz pulls up the golden bough
and uses it as a back scratcher.

Baz and the Seventh Doctor

In the toilet of the bar
That used to be a mosque
Next to the Theatre that used
To be good.

The actor that
Used to be the
Seventh doctor
Taking a piss
After taking the piss
In a farce on a stage.

And Baz gleefully
Returning to his seat
After the briefest
Of exchanges.

What did you say to him?
We asked.

I asked him about
Time and Relative dimensions
He smirked,

I always thought the Doctor’s penis
Would be bigger on the inside than out

But that has proved to be a phallacy.

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