Monday, 25 August 2008

Shakespeare's day out in Blackpool

Blackpool prom's a stage,
And all the hens and stags are merely players;
They have their hotels and their B and Bs;
And one man in his time drinks many pints,
His limit being closing time. Just like the infant,
Mewling and puking in the best man’s arms.
And the whining school-boy, with his bucket,
Spade, and weather beaten face, dragged from beach
Unwillingly to bed. And then the lover,
Drunk with Guinness, buys a new tattoo to
Match his partner’s pierced eyebrow. Squaddies,
Full of oaths, and bearded like the Taliban,
Guard drinks and girls, swift and quick in quarrel,
Look for trouble and a reputation
Even in the p’liceman’s face. The pregnant teen,
In fair round belly. Primark crop top lin'd,
With eyes severe and hair of Spice Girl cut,
Full of cold sores and modern e-numbers;
And so they play their part. The sixth pint spills
Onto the floor and soiled pantaloons.
With spectacles askew, throws up outside;
His youthful hopes, to cross, a road too wide
For his drunk shanks; and his big manly voice,
Turns back to order treble vodka, pies,
And whiskies in his round. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Go home by coach to mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Heh, I laughed a bit at this. It's a nice adaptation of All the World's a Stage.