I am lying lazily, sleepily, fitfully
in my bed.
No work to do, not today,
I rather think my work is done.
For a man with no legs can’t do much on a farm,
added to that I’ve only one arm,
while my bandaged up eyes give me cause for alarm,
so I hear and I smell and that’s all.
I smell, oh yes I smell
of gangrene, vomit, fear and despair.
I hear, oh yes I hear
the cries of men in the other beds
who will not die, sod them!
And leave me in peace.
I have to laugh though,
my nickname in the barracks – Lucky Lewis.
Through the pain, fear and misery
I think the dead are the lucky ones.
Blown to atoms in a split second,
split into atoms
like the shell that found me left me in pieces.
In the other beds, at home,
the broad beans will be considering life.
The daffodils, lovingly cut down and put in vases,
will be pumping out their perfume
which I always hated!
But give me just one sniff of it now
I would die happy.
I hear, when we get home,
there will be a land fit for heroes.
I do not think it will be for me,
Not for me,
Not me,
Not me.
Get knotted!
Don’t change those bandages again,
I scream in agony when they come off,
piss myself with the pain.
I can feel that alright!
Stick the daffodils up your aspidistra plant.
I’ll grow runner beans no more,
run no more, be no more.
I hear them say the fever’s got me,
that’s why my thoughts are rambling
but I’ll never ramble again,
except, perhaps, in the loony bin that they’ll put me in.
And that’s only if I survive.
Alive,
alive alive oh-oh, alive alive oh-oh
singing cockles and mussels
alive alive oh!
Both my feet are itching
but they’re not there anymore.
Noses run in our family
feet smell
we’re upside down
I’m in hell
Pussy’s down the well
ding dong bell
ask not for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for tea
two lumps, a little milk please.
Two lumps that were my legs
and those are pearls that were his eyes.
Lies! Lies!
All over by Christmas, I despise
The Army! The Generals! The Privates!
My privates are still intact, I think,
so I can’t even get a job as a eunuch.
Damn that shell! Damn it to hell!
Shell should be a safe word,
keeps you safe,
in your shell,
cosy, warm,
protected.
Scallops!
It’s not true.
Drifting off, now, drifting, drifting.
Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye.
Goodbye-ee, goodbye-ee,
wipe a tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee,
though it’s hard to part I know,
one arm stops at the elbow,
can’t sigh-ee, can’t die-ee,
there’s no silver lining in my sky-ee,
Goodbye, old thing,
Cheerio
Chin-chin……..
© Ray Stearn
23rd March 2015
