Doom and T-Mayo go for it…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s financial forecast is for thick grasping fingers holding hot coins, whilst aromatic creamy banknotes are aflutter in the wind.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

My friend Stella, whom you may have encountered at odd times in these pages, enthusiastically tells me that Simon Doom and Tony Mayonnaise, writers and poets from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League, have made up their differences again – as if I would be interested!…
This news is surprising however, because I heard from another source that they were both coincidentally in London last week, and both turned up at the same time to see the Man Ray exhibition in the National Portrait Gallery. Apparently they spotted each other early on and pointedly ignored one another with noses in the air for a good half hour, however, as Doom was closely inspecting a portrait of Lee Miller, Mayonnaise deliberately stepped in front of him and blocked his view. Doom responded by kneeing Mayo in the backs of the legs and dropped him to the floor with a reverberating thud. Of course, all hell broke loose and they rolled about punching, scratching, biting, and yelping like a pair of daft terriers.
They were eventually pulled apart by a large round American tourist in colourful Bermuda shorts, who picked them up, one under each arm, carried them to the front doors, and threw them out into Trafalgar Square, where they continued with their fight. They were quietly applauded and photographed by a group of Japanese tourists who apparently thought that it was some kind of performance piece.
Stella says that Doom and Mayo are best sloppy buds again and are even thinking of making their relationship more permanent – she says that it would be an ‘uncivil partnership’. They have even composed a joint poem, each writing alternate stanzas; Stella gave me a copy of it to share with the world…

Tiger Stripes and Leopard Spots.

Barnivore tib-catch baby,
Rumourloid gold angst button.
Wretched paradigm cap-chussel,
Bootness allegory pale-string maps.

Tandiness bit-strap intending,
Boon-book talisman fetch-big.
Grease-down arboretum chick,
Pook-pump mean dance etcetera.

Crabonto docket pocket life-strife,
Penny telephone bismuth drops.
Dangle kakkoko tune tape-dust,
Oro-nice bute my loveliness block.

Rumourloid couple task do-don’t,
Rumourloid intending fetch-fetch.
Chick chick pump-pook lavender,
Chussel chussel chussel baby chussel.

TM & SD. 2013.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in art, brain, drama, existentialism, Grumpiness, humour, information, irony, money, poetry, sex, surrealism, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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