Black Sabbath in my brain
Rafferty’s Baker St.
Madonna says
Put your love to the test
It’s all the same beat
It is the beat of my heart
I am alive
My Father is dead
Now my brother is dead
Will they read Shakespeare
After I too am gone?
Let alone my brother (or even me?)
‘Introibo ad altare dei …’
My London-crushed Mother
Still laments Vatican II
Shakespeare stole all his plots
Off the Italians
He stole his form off Marlowe
They killed Marlowe
For his love of tobacco boys and Atheism
The Ruff Bond boys of the time
Shakespeare was far too clever
Far too up the establishment’s cold vagina
To get a knife in Deptford
On a cold winter night
From a Brexit orc
Delighted by some shrapnel
A few beers and a trollop…
Shakespeare, like Chaucer
Will be dropped or bowdlerised
Eventually as he becomes ever more work
For monetised consumers to buy
For brainwashed slaves to buy
Why pay for some education
Where the old white guy
Makes no sense?
Roddy McDevitt’s waiting
Talking Italian…
(Talking Italian)
Roddy McDevitt’s waiting
Talk ing Italian…
‘Introibo ad altare dei …’
My London-crushed Mother
Still laments Vatican II
I’m waiting like Godot
Like Beckett
(Who lived up the road from me)
We walked the same Dublin hills
And thought the same waiting thoughts…
Me, Beckett, my dedicated brother
And Shakespeare will be dropped
From the syllabus
Just forgettable old white men
Without a clue about anything
As Truss, Karmakwasi, Braverman
and all the colourful stooges
and all the colourful stooges
Destroy Shakespeare’s Kingdom
At the behest
Of the death-grey moneymen
Offshore
Not over here
Safe from the knives
Of a bald limp-wristed
Ugly girly Bond
Who takes it up the arse
From Nigerian trade
In cottages in Brixton
On cold winter nights
Rather than shiver
And maybe die
Of cold or boredom
At home in his coffin-chic
Sub-elite garret
As his dead-eyed overlords laugh
Over double laphroaigs
In White’s of St. James’s
As a new rentboy outside
Fresh in from Ireland
Shivers
And waits for the fancy…
And waits for the fancy…
‘When I first came to London…’
Roddy McDevitt’s waiting
Talking Italian…
(Talking Italian)
Roddy McDevitt’s waiting
Talk ing I tal yah yah hah hah haian…
Black Sabbath in my brain
Rafferty’s Baker St.
Madonna says
Put your love to the test
It’s all the same beat
It is the beat of my heart
I am alive
My Father is dead
Now my brother is dead
Will they read Shakespeare
After I too am gone?
Roddy McDevitt
Picture Nick Victor
Picture Nick Victor