Al Kennedy - Know Your Words

First published by House of D and Lulu.com 2010

Copyright 2010 Alistair Kennedy, Amy Kreines & Delilah Des Anges
All rights reserved.

Designed and set by Delilah Des Anges Cover art by Delilah Des Anges

ISBN #: 978-1-4452-6946-7

Contents:

Al Kennedy is Scottish, short and largely bald. He can't remember the first poem he wrote, but it was either a limerick about an orange that liked to go to sleep at night still wearing all its clothes, or a longer piece about how much he enjoyed eating at Little Chef. His poems have been described as "inspired poetic jokes" (by his third form English teacher) and "good" (by his girlfriend). He is not the novelist A.L. Kennedy. Yes, he is quite sure about that.

To Carrie, for putting up with Wednesdays.

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Everything I'll ever need from life
I've learned from Disney films:
If you wish upon a star
You can go to the ball
You can break any curse
You can marry the princess
(Or prince, depending)
If you believe in yourself
You can dance to Elvis
You can become a real boy
You can learn how to fly
If you trust in your friends
You can defeat your evil uncle
You can pull a sword from a stone
You can beat the Huns during the Ming dynasty (In certain limited circumstances)
But somehow all this vital knowledge
This universal wisdom
Doesn't seem to be helping me
To win this game
Of Connect 4
You're beating me at

Though JFK made promises to land men on the moon By 69 it seemed it wouldnt come any time soon
For though the moon was closer than the nearest distant star Ambition far outstripped their scientific repertoire

The astros had the right stuff but they did not want to die By unexpected circumstance when shot into the sky Then NASA boffins came up with a way to save some face To get round the necessity to hurl men into space

Lets not go to the moon, they said, lets shoot it on the ground,
And craft a sort of ersatz version we can edit down So they hired a crew of guys and gals to help create the scene And make the greatest fake moon landing there has ever been

They laboured long and tirelessly to get things nearly right Illuminating Buzz and Neil with two sources of light Erecting flags that may have seemed to flutter in the breeze The better to leave clues for those who hunt conspiracies

Firm footprints, as in wet cement, were pressed into the sand No crater marked the region where they had the module land Meticulous arrangement of each well-chosen mistake Comprised the composition of their perfect obvious fake

And so Apollo found its way onto the worlds TVs And made its crew (well, two of them) instant celebrities So raise a glass to crew and cast and post-production folks Those long forgotten heroes of the great moon landing hoax

They are fuzzy, ill-defined,
The men in the photograph,
Looking out across 65 years
At no-one they have ever met.
We have little in common,
So far as I know.
Shared touchpoints, perhaps
The one on the left likes swimming, I decide, The second from right reads Captain America. The one in shorts though, we went to the same school, This we can be sure of.
I can read his story,
Every ex-pupil can, the school made sure of that. We went to the same school.
Is that enough? How strong is that old tie?
A flicker of affinity, maybe,
But the signal is weak.
Every page is filled with names, dates,
Leaving years in brackets,
Births, deaths, marriages;
We are told these things because some of us, Some of us somewhere might care,
Might have a memory tweaked, the embers of Old associations breathed on, rekindled.
Not for me, I realise. Few names mean much. Those I do remember
I would not wish to be remembered to.
If I have something to tell, I think,
I will tell you. You will know
Long before these notices appear on your mat, General, indiscriminate, an afterthought of
'Any other business'.
But that's today.
65 years from now, when friendships may have died, Friends too,
Will I look out my old photographs,
Fuzzy, ill-defined,
To share them with anyone who shares with me A line in my academic history?
No, I decide. Not me.
But that is today.
When that is all that remains...? Give it time.
Give it time.

I've bought you this new flashlight just in case And here's some Kendall Mint Cake for the trip A wooly scarf to wrap around your face
And sturdy-looking boots so you don't slip I hope you've packed your thermal underwear, Your crampons, compass, ropes and carabiners, Your GPS locator, and a flare,
A packed lunch and a flask of hot Ribena. I've hired a husky team to get you there,
A Sherpa too, a really lovely guy
He'll help you if you meet a grizzly bear
And bring your body back if you should die. Please write to let me know how you get on, And plant a flag there when you reach the top. So bon voyage, I'll miss you when you're gone, And I'll see you when you get back from the shops.

The milks gone slightly bad, I think it went off yesterday. I still feel kind of guilty as Im pouring it away.

The laundry pile is nearly gone, theres one more whites load there.
Whod have guessed two people could own so much underwear?

For two weeks Ive been off the crisps, the chocolate and the drink.
I havent lost an ounce, and maybe never will, I think.

They print the Fringe guide so the cover smudges on your hands.
Why they do it every year Ill never understand.

It seems my thoughts are dullness mixed in with banality. Im hungry and Im bored of this, Im off to make me tea.

To whom it may concern - its been a year, Or thereabout, last Halloween, I think,
Since we hosted a costume party here,
When my ex-workmates turned up worse for drink.

You must have changed your gear when you arrived Weve still got clothing you went home without. We wouldnt want you to be shirt-deprived,
And catch a chill whenever you go out.

Its quite a nifty shirt, in bottle green, With Master Chief from Halo on the chest (Its not the subtlest thing Ive ever seen, And maybe Im just easily impressed),

But Im afraid its going to have to go. That said, Id rather not throw it away. So if its yours, write back and let me know, A years too long a time to keep a stray.

Flgoloth N'Gang Cthulu.
Cthulu.
CTHULU.
Gol Soth Nothosog L'nanath.