LIFETIMES –
by
SEAMUS ROBINSON
© 1982
Relaxed, and lights a “feg” …
Lets his stomach take its time
Digesting breakfast egg ;
Scans the paper while his ears
Absorb the early news …
“Body found” the wireless says
,
He bends to lace his shoes –
“Another one again last
night,”
He tells his wife as she lifts
a plate ;
She shrugs a sigh and takes
his cup –
“Smarten up – you’re going to
be late.”
He yawns and rises from the
chair ,
And dons his policeman’s coat
…
“See you, Love,” he calls from
the door ,
While unsaid words clog in his
throat .
Outside, the sun shines
through the trees ,
Alive with warbled whistling
codes …
In the car, he turns the key ,
And all the world … explodes .
To Riley’s corner-shop …
She joins the queue while
Riley talks –
“They’ve killed another cop ,
Got him as he left the house –
Blew the car sky-high.”
“He’ll shoot no more,” a woman
says ,
“What price your Shepherd’s
Pie?”
“And yet and all,” another
speaks –
“He still was someone’s son ,
Just like that lad the
Orangies killed
Last night and called it fun.”
The youngster waits until her
turn ,
Then buys a chocolate bar –
At eight years old there’s
better things
Than blowing-up a car …
Homewards in the shining sun ,
Then soldiers running by –
And sudden banging plastic death
Comes crashing through her eye
.
To consciousness again …
He sucks a breath through
broken lips
And shudders with the pain –
Black blinding pain that
spikes throughout
The twitching residue ,
That was his body once –
God – let it not be true .
He tries to clear his eyeless
slits
With a useless, handless stump
,
But the brain has lost the
power to rule
His shapeless body-lump .
“The Fenian pig is still
alive,”
He hears the “Butcher” say –
“I told you that we’d need to
rip
The bloody throat away.”
“O my God I am heartily … “
Sean tries to say the prayer –
As again the “Butcher’s” knife
descends ,
And leaves him throatless
there .
* * *