T.S. And I – Or Should That Be Me?

Rossleigh

10 years ago

Bought myself a bottle of scotch tonight.

It’s been a rough few weeks for me…

Of course, it actually hasn’t.

I’ve been employed again. I keep getting jobs even though my intention has been to stop work, let my wife support me until I make ridiculous amounts of money from doing a speaking tour of anywhere that’s prepared to pay me the same amount they pay loser politicians like John Howard to come and speak.

Actually, I don’t want to sound cheap but I’d probably be prepared to speak for a fraction of the cost of John Howard.

Actually, I’d be prepared to speak for nothing. Which sort of makes me sound less than cheap. But still, it puts me on the same level as those politicians who stand for nothing.

But let’s be real. When Abbott is throne (yes, intended misspelling given his close relationship with the Royle Family… oh, come on people, don’t even bother pointing out that one) out unceremoaningly on his rear. And YES, that was an intentional miss pelling as well. Oh dear me… I didn’t finish the sentence. Well, when Abbott is thrown out on his arse, there’ll probably be even less people prepared to listen to him than… well, bad days I’ve had in the past few years…

Ah, that scotch… It was this sort of referencing that made TS Eliot remembered while my poetry lingers at the bottom of some box that anyone with any sense would have sent the way of John Howard a long time ago.

Of course, I haven’t consumed the whole bottle. Not even more than a couple of glasses. But sometimes, scotch helps me to see things a little more clearly.

Anyway, I was reading Ross Garnaut’s book “Dog Days” and I read this bit:

“I use the term ‘living standards’ many times in this book. I am only refering to the consumption of material goods and services. It should go without saying – but sometimes needs saying – that material living standards are not the only determinants of human welfare.”

Yep. Some days we have anniversaries of other days that nobody understands.

But out of a bottom drawer, and just because I’d like to find it just as easily as I can find “The Waste Land”. Oh, come on people – this is why I joined the Arts Party…

“Grief has come to stay a while

He’s an unwelcome visitor –

Not the good friend he pretends to be

When he opens that bottle and encourages

Another drink.

Grief has come to stay a while

Uninvited, like some distant cousin –

I’ll have to hold my tongue

When he reminds me of good times gone

And moments lost.

Grief has come to stay a while

And tomorrow he’ll dig up the garden,

Tramp mud everywhere

And put flowers in places where flowers

Do not grow.

Grief has come to stay a while

And while I wish him gone

I know that when he goes

So do you, and I’m not ready

To forget.”