Ironically

Marcel,

in something of an attempt

to increase his acceptance

amongst the other boys in his class,

one lunch time

allowed himself

to be taken by the hand

to the small enclosure

that housed the kitchen refuse bins.

There, Della,

a female student in the year below

who had been attracted to Marcel

from her first days at the school –

his honey-coloured skin

and long eyelashes –

deftly unzipped his fly

withdrew his flaccid penis,

placed it between her lips

and began to suck.

Marcel,

quickly succumbed

to the unfamiliar arousal he felt,

from the gentle

and unexpected manipulation

of  his organ 

by another person,

but hurriedly withdrew his penis

from her mouth,

ejaculating onto the tarmac.

Ironically,

despite this seemingly

appreciative response,

the incident in fact

reaffirmed in Marcel’s mind

that he was,

without any doubt,

homosexual,

provoking in him 

feelings

similar to those he had experienced

on eating 

the piece of undercooked liver

that had resulted in his choosing

vegetarianism.

At Sunridge House

School time memories

Dusk falls

and the girls are early to bed.

But at half past eight

he and I take our guitars and

go gently into the

boarding house courtyard.

Below her window

we start to sing

and play

and one by one

all the windows above us

slide open and

girls

of every shape and age

lean out to listen

and when we have finished

playing and singing

they laugh

and chatter

and clap their hands.

And she

that is his sweetheart

is proud and embarrassed

that this boy would

dare to

do such a thing.

And others’ eyes

are turned towards her

and others’ hearts

are imagining

themselves thus serenaded.

And then

in the kitchen

we are sat on tall stools

and we are given

Hot Chocolate and Digestives

by laughing girls

Our guitars

rest gently

between our knees.

The kitchen is warm

by the gas burners

and we are flushed

that we have dared

to do such a thing.

A lenient teacher

suggests it would perhaps

be best

if we leave now.

And the two stand together

like adults.

He kisses her

in her pyjamas,

his hands

inside her dressing gown

smoothing the pink brushed cotton

over her hips.

Then I am walking down

through the town

with my guitar in its

soft, cloth case

gently banging against my leg

on my own.

Metronome

Schooldays - the best days of your life...?

George and me and Alf Hewison

slip out

of the second half

of double maths

on Saturday mornings

- Mr Hough scowls.

We go off to the music room

at the end of the hall,

and Mr Dicker -

from Shaftesbury and District Silver Band -

tells us how we should play the trombone.

Mr Dicker is as stained as an old teapot

his moustache is yellow,

his face is red and

his nose is bigger than his chin.

The edges of his ears

curl

like smoked back bacon.

You can see his string vest

through the white nylon of his shirt.

The Summer runs down his neck

into pits under his arms.

The music room is very small -

three pubescent boys,

farting down a trombone,

and an old smoker...

Aroma.

One day Mr Dicker says to me -

Give me yer 'and.

He’s been away -

What?

- but he’s back now.

Give me yer 'and.

Hospital or somewhere.

So I give the trombone to Alf

and I give my hand to

Mr Dicker.

He pulls me towards him.

He opens his jacket.

He lifts his left arm.

He guides my hand

under his armpit

- in the summer

- with the white nylon

- under his armpit.

What?

I feel it then.

Can you feel it?

Er - yes.

The lump?

I can feel the lump

through the nylon

criss-crossed with string vest.

Do you know what that is?

Er - no.

It’s me pacemaker

- battery operated

- it keeps me heart regular

- like a metronome

- can you feel it?

Oh yes.

Then George had to feel

then Alf.

After the lesson

when we’d washed

our hands

we decided he was

Mr Dicker with the Dicky Ticker.

Something Useful

So when I asked Dad

what he wanted

for Christmas

He said

oh nothing.

So I said

come on, dad, what?

and he said

No, really, I don’t want anything.

You can’t afford it.

Yes I can

I said

I want to buy you something.

He said,

Well, all right then, but make it

something useful.

So I said

Like what?

And he said

Oh, I don’t know,

Something I need…

And I said

Like what?

And he said

Well I don’t know…

Something for the kitchen…

I know, 

we really need a new tin opener.

A tin opener?

Yes.

But that’s not a very nice Christmas present.

And he said

I don’t mind – that’s what I want.

So the next day

after school

I popped into town

before I went home.

I went into Sharp’s

and then into Humphrey’s

and they didn’t have many tin openers

but I managed to find one like the one we had before

for 49p,

which I could afford.

So I was just taking it up to the counter to pay

when Jonathon Luxton was there

and he came up to me

and he saw what I had in my hand

and he said

a tin opener?

Wow!  Somebody’s getting a nice Christmas present.

And I couldn’t think what to say,

so I didn’t say anything.

I just sort of shrugged and

smiled

and bought the tin opener

and then I went off to Harding’s

to find some wrapping paper.