Thursday, March 26, 2009

Jeeves’ Salve at Cutthroat Prices

Mrs. Mastiansky, known for her gruffness and weak evangelic face, said ‘…where is it, where’s the damn glove...? After which she upended a cripple, a muleteer and a braggart, announcing ‘…get the blasted out of my way, you clubfooted doe…!’ This being the umpteenth time she’d sent flying a braggart, a cripple and a muleteer, she threw her purse-laden hands into the air, exclaiming madly ‘…man against beast against swine, whatever will I do…?’ (Athlone Westmeath Bucharest Vaslui, Jeeves salve at cutthroat prices, madam’s et monsieur. For the umpteenth time she correlated three with seven arriving at nil. Why the bother? A cause a cause, she sallied …that a way). On his umpteenth birthday his da bought him a drawstring apron with a pocket on the front. Malcolm Sisyphus was stitched on the bib, master tailor and haberdasher. His da said the name was stolen from a book about sunshine and squinting he’d read when he was twelve. Nothing further was said about squinting, sunshine or Malcolm Sisyphus. His birthdays came and went, his da spending his birthdays with a Celbridge whore he met after the bar let out. Two birthdays later his da came down with the Lyme, his feet letting go at the bottoms. ‘…hey da…’ he asked, ‘…how come the Celbridge whores have the Lyme…?’ His da saying ‘…on account of the Lyme being such…’. ‘…such…?’ he asked. ‘…such as such…’ his da explained, ‘…the Lyme as such, that is…’. After his eleventh birthday he didn’t learn much else from his da, his da being prone to fits and seizures and sleepy most of the time.

No comments:

About Me

My photo
"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

Blog Archive