Doom in cuffs…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s ancient Egyptian deity is the baboon-like god Baba. His attributes are: aggression, virility, the penis being the bolt of heaven’s door or the mast of the underworld boat. (Baba)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As I was walking past Waterstones bookshop in town on Tuesday afternoon I heard some noise coming from the little street to my right. A police car, blue lights flashing and siren squealing drove out of it and across the pedestrianised area and stopped dead in front of the shop; two beefy black-clad officers jumped out and ran inside, their radios squawking as they went; I don’t think they were out shopping for Christmas books though.
On occasions such as this, where people stand and gawp I don’t usually join them, I generally avert my gaze and walk on nonchalantly, however as I proceeded in this manner, I heard a vaguely familiar, but slurred, voice shout out, ‘Hey Dave!… You old bastard!…’
I stopped and looked round to see Simon Doom, poet from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League, obviously drunk, being carried out of the shop by his elbows, his legs kicking in the air, between the two large aforementioned coppers.
‘Will you come and visit me in jail?’ he cried, and then laughed uproariously as he was carefully plonked down on the back seat of the police car. The door slammed and he waggled and rattled his handcuffs at me through the window and grinned; I waved back and smiled.
I heard later that he had been approaching customers in the shop, snatching the book that they were about to buy, and signing the author’s name on the title page and handing it back to them; he had done six J K Rowlings, two Jim Al-Khalilis, a Philip Larkin, and a couple of children’s bibles before a big chap from the upstairs cafe rugby-tackled him and pinned him down to the carpet – however, still having a pen in his hand Doom managed, in the struggle, to sign the shaved head of his assailant with the name G K Chesterton… (GKC)
As the cops whisked him away he shouted to me that he had left a copy of his latest spoem (spoof poem) in the pages of The Brothers Karamazov, and that I could go in and retrieve it, if I wanted to…

Pig snail squib mollusc all effrontery jasmine apple ample dance aplomb
docket mock clock trek clown arable disaster mole transfer myrrh care, say what?

Mug ticker blue maggot trot bugger song rifle pot adorable chafing scenery ace
basement carnival doorstep bugs prang sock glove bounty craggy pod, say what?

Block toaster retrospect talisman filth jacket ohm box dearth filigree gnat pot
slick silk sick stick balm zipper cork downplay roughness saucer, say what?

Portmanteau jabs crabs adders ladders booking cat hood bear fur mare gum
discouragement vent glucose rose pose sip damper blimp tassel spun, say what?

Tail boxer ducats false motoring almond sweat money gun son dovetail vase
carbon discus trudge blowtorch dizziness crumb nostalgia dent tenderness, say what?

Bugle word animus grape pate waiting buttock imagination string bamboozle
toffee bag date chain drain spike comfort frost pipe turncoat pig, say what?

Simon Doom. 2016.

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, books, brain, composition, creation, drama, history, Hull.UK., humour, information, magic, poetry, reading, serendipity, surrealism, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Doom in cuffs…

  1. Dana Doran says:

    Simon Doom? I shall declare I am a fan…not so much for his writing, but that he penned autographs in a bookstore……I am wondering what name he signed in the bible?

  2. I do like Simon – always doing what he darn well pleases. His latest work is very complex isn’t it? Requires a lot of ruminating. 🙂

  3. David Manley says:

    Doom sums up the post Brexit, pre Trump decline & fall of Western civilisation and the post war neo liberal late capitalist collapse like no other bard of our generation…or at least gives us a plausible critique of the shit we’re in!

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