NaPoWriMo Day 19 – 216

Today’s official prompt of using a Shakespearian insult or even those from Skeletor just didn’t sit right with me. Not when I’ve got a rich history of inventive and highly personalised barbs. When you mix two parts wrestling fan with five parts Mancunian you’re guaranteed a silver tongue that can shimmer as brightly as it’s slices are deadly.

So here’s a story from September 2007 on the 216 bus when an interloper was unclear which of my companions he was referring to.

“Oi mate, is that your bird?”

He warbled unintelligibly.

“No” I protested … with much chagrin

“I’m not into bestiality” I spat back at him.

“Wots bestiality?” bellowed the brute.

“Ask your mother…” I said being cute.

“it might explain a few things”

yet he offered no rebuke.

However what puzzled me most

wasn’t his chauvinistic candour

nor his obliviousness

to my cheeky backhander.

For all the fish in the sea that we swim in,

he just wasn’t clear…

for I was seeing

TWO women.

NaPoWriMo Day 3 – Flashforward

I’m a tad behind having been a busy bee. Nonetheless I wrote day 3’s offering yesterday on day 5.

I got a homebody with a journeyman’s soul,

I’m always on the run even when my pace is slow.

So let’s go back, half a decade ago

unwind to a time when I were in vogue.

At the top of my game, yet I still got relegated.

I was in love but it got cut short,

she wasn’t outta my league

she just played another sport.

Cos y’know only fools play by the rules,

you thought that I could be a star but I shined because of you.

Maybe that’s my fault, I should have shined just for me,

but I loved the angel too

so I was shining for three.

It’ll never be the same

cos I can lose the weight

and regain momentum.

But when you’ve loved and lost

you still don’t forget em.

So I could travel the world

– getting drunk on a memory.

I never wanted the hoes,

just a shot and some Hennessy.

Double-barrelled casks? I ain’t trifled.

Cupid swapped arrows for an Uzi

cos you’d taken the Michael…

the Conrad, and even Bob’s Burgers

with a red neck and brown nose for taking orders.

Then I became a chef, how I laugh at the irony.

Cooking up a storm with a pinch of what might’ve been.

You had all the ingredients but you swapped it for a Pot Noodle,

now you’re in hot water

fuck the Bombay Badboy.

There’s more fire in my eyes than a billion Mike’s dropped.

Cos this Fat Man goes nuclear when he’s put in a tight spot.

See the passion of my soul

I’m the hip hop Prometheus,

I stole a gift from the Gods

now I’m continuing to pay for this.

Now I’m working in theatre,

and I’m hitting my renaissance.

I may be fickle for fame

but I don’t want the things that they want.

A platform and marketing is all that appeals,

and a family sized trailer called a Heart on Wheels.

Now I know you cut the breaks,

but I’ve no intention of crashing.

I hope this flashback will flash forward

to a day where I’m laughing…

at some dumb shit, someone special’s cute smile…

but it won’t be you…

I’ve known that for awhile…