Cultural Fuck-ups by Jim Ferguson

1.

a sane man somewhere
gave the order —
‘shoot to kill… bomb to kill’
is your money clean or dirty
is your bomb a dirty bomb
do clean bombs do less damage
do dirty bombs inflict more pain —
does the policy explain
how the human understanding stands to gain —
‘bomb to kill… shoot to kill’
the resurrected stumble
……………………………..from Hiroshima flames

..

2.

just a little bit of childhood
nearly 5 years old
sitting in a tiny tunnel
where the burn runs through
is it Scotland or Japan
and you’ve taken off your shoes
keep your feet nice n cool
as fresh fishes dart around your infant toes —
up it goes … up it goes … up it goes

3.

 

King Kong becomes President of Scotland

i am a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
are you 55 at 25
cause you’re fucked-up everyday
an environmental carcinogen
a fuck-up in every way
are you one last blast
from the dreams of the past
before it all gets
blown away

*

you’re a heartbreaking record
on life’s endless turntable

relentlessly reckless
like Bach’s aching cellos —

you sit on a high chair
your prey-filled hands

scooping up water
devouring lands —

muddled beer heads
……..are hiding

……..they can’t understand
blind ambition

*

i am a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
i had job seekers allowance
i had my ESA
and i’m gonny get tax credits
before they’re blown away

*

you’re a dead god’s meta-narrative
….a shit post-modern myth

a banal chef on TV
….taking the cultural piss —

your news is always
….truthfully lying

we all must trust King Kong
….and watch old silent movies

where the plot is straight
….and strong

where the language is untwisted
….where the smiles are all glued on —

hell-sent gurus feed us futures
….we don’t care about the past

hear everyone roar
….as we plummet on down

from the two hundredth floor —
….with a splat

*

i’m a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
are you the ghost of Frankenstein’s daughter
haunting an empty womb
or the birth of a new revolution —
coming soon

*

 

his old leather jacket
……….devours all the love

that tumbles
……….with autumn’s

sun-golden leaves —
……….on Charity’s

Duke Street
……we collect for the needy

take from the poor
……….to give those with nothing

something
…………….almost always

an effort
………….so christian and useless

to no one but fraudsters
………….and gangsters —

and fake moral outrage
………….from smug politicians

makes us dig deep
………….in our near empty pockets

to find only shrapnel
………….from bullets and bombs

*

 

King Kong
………….is President

………….how they all
ape him —

the muddled beer-heads are forced to drink tea
……….how they blink at the lucid
……………..low autumn sun
…………………in their eyes

*

i am a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
are you the naked ape in the clothing store
where nothing ever fits but you always want more
i’m a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
did you think Harry Lauder was a bore

*

i confess i am lonely
i confess i am sad
all fucked up here
with whisky and beer
and the meds
that they give to the mad

does King Kong live on your back green
does King Kong live up your nose
do you have a toy that glows in the dark
do you have red tartan shoes

come now my angelic monsters
let us head for the standing stones —
move on up to Callanish
cleanse my corrupted soul

*

i am a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
a cheat in every race
your language is fucking disgraceful
and nobody likes your face

*

the future must unmask itself
George Square stands in ruins
Edinburgh Castle has slipped from its rock
the Trident missiles flown —

hellish
…………..fallout…..gathers………….in our stones

*

i am a cultural fuck-up
i puke after every meal
but then drinking tea at the food bank
feels surreal

are you an independent fuck-up
a fucker from a fucked-up tribe
or a Human Resource fuck-up
taking a bribe

i am a cultural fuck-up
are you a cultural fuck-up
i am 55 at 25
i live on Facebook Street
with epileptic dreamers
dreaming peace

*

..

..

exit         bonnie Scotland
exit         ‘Donald whar’s yir kilt?
exit         Rosebud on his sledge
exit         Nicola whar’s yir troosers
exit         the living dead
exit         alcoholic happiness
exit         King Kong stage left
exit         the digital ether
exit         plastic shortbread
exit         the Barrowland Ballroom
exit         the square-slice roll
exit         Bonnie Prince Charlie
exit         at the Paisley Road Toll          … exit
…………………coming soon…
exit         cultural fuck-ups
exit         fast

..

..

4.

time is a wanderer     time is a bomb
it goes tick tick ticking on and on —
mutated little body that won’t travel very far
death is instant then your pickled in a jar
……who’s the Prime Minister?
……do you know where you are?
did the radiation make your limbs grow strong —
time warps around corners
time spirals up and down
while The King imagines
he can push it all back in
return it to the bottle
send the Genie home
are you happy in your little jar alone
see the world all distorted
through a thick glass lens
and for one millionth of one millionth
of nano fucked-up second
every thought of every human-
being ever      just made sense

5.

jf0001

..

Jim Ferguson is a poet and prose writer based in Glasgow, Scotland. Recent publications include the novel ‘Punk Fiddle’, poetry collection ‘Songs to Drown a Million Souls’ and musings on the Scottish independence referendum campaign ‘The Pine-Box-Jig Involves no Dancing’. He works as a Creative Writing Tutor at Glasgow Kelvin College (Easterhouse Campus), is available for readings, and can be contacted via his website www.jimfergusonpoet.co.uk.
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