Another dead swan.

ANOTHER DEAD SWAN.

(to be read in the style of Richard Burton reading ‘Under milk wood’ by Dylan Thomas).

Tonight, Stratford upon Avon sleeps.
Shakespearean trinkets, keyrings, nametags, pullovers and mugs
hang unsold in darkened shops.
Looking forward to their new owners and to be taken further afield than China.

Tiny beards quiver on bathroom tiles eagerly anticipating the glued-anew feeling.
The clinging precariously to the fleshy chin of yet another balding Shakespeare impersonator wearing a big hat that any self-respecting Elizabethan would not be seen dead in.
Who come the morrow his blood restricting tights will lead hordes of bored and reluctant schoolchildren on an exhausting trek.
To nowhere in particular.

Tonight, guides clad in their yellow pyjamas dream guiltily.
Of taking the hopeful to an empty tomb.
Embellishing in their sleep.
Night-maring about losing the thread and a sore throat.

The Shakespearian properties are wide awake but empty.
Dying…dying to tell anyone who will listen, the truth.
That William lived two doors down.
This is the house of Molly Perkins who ran Stratford upon Avon’s best brothel.
Shakespeare was a customer not a tenant.

And meanwhile the mighty Royal Shakespeare theatre snoozes, satisfied.
As the Avon caresses its side to an even deeper sleep, satisfied, its coffers full.
While its not-so-sure word-soaked employees dream that this is their big-break.
They looked good carrying a sword.
What can possibly go wrong?
They stood legs astride manfully.
With the script imbedded yet not understood, they posed successfully.
Hands on hips. A sneer. Half a smile.
Meaning sincerely whatever it was they were shouting.
The audience stood.
Every hurrah and cry leading to a Hollywood audition.
Satisfied but quietly baffled and ready for the last bus home.
Money well spent on a programme like a book.

The river swells.
As Cyril collects another dead, abused swan.

IFH


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Author: IanF

Ian is a Stratfordian and quite angry about all sorts of things, Local, National and in fact, everything World-Wide. For the sake of his mental health he has chosen to Vent his Spleen in a blog. He advises YOU dear reader to do the same.

I would be interested to know your thoughts...

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