Excerpt for The 12th Of April by , available in its entirety at Smashwords





THE 12th of April

David Francis Jeffery

Copyright David Francis Jeffery 2018

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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I love the Necks. Always have, since the very first time I heard them. I’ve seen them live many times and I have most of their recordings. The one thing I’ve never been able to do - and will never be able to do - is play with them. They already have a drummer. A great drummer.



So, for me, this is the next best thing.



This book was written while listening to the Necks recording’s Mosquito and See Through. I highly recommend you do the same while reading.



DFJ - 12/4/18








Mosquito








And so

A beginning marks

The first spot

On the page



And this

Is the beginning








Trumpeters and

Galleons



Push on

Toward the horizon



The unknown

Being

The only known








Potter about

To avoid

The coming wash



What storm

Is this

That renders

My distraction?








Circuitous rambling



A common mistake?








Left past the dry-dock

The ship in such

Wanton disrepair

The sailors attached

But not in charge



Ludicrous



The whole enterprise

Smacks of being

Thrown together

At the last minute








A cup of tea

That might

Calm me down








Lovely chords

Chiming in the

Distance



Must be

A service








Terra Nautilus



The theory of

No ship

Ever appearing

At sea








Holding truth

Like a noose in

Your hand



You’d better be

Prepared to use it

The way

Nature intended








Songs on the back

Of Kings



Kings on the back

Of generations



Generations

On their backs








So far

So good



Why is so far

So good?








A wave of a black

Cloud

A wave of a black

Flag

A sign of another

Discontent






Beating the sound

Into life








Unless I’m very much

Mistaken

I can see no other

Way around it



We just have to be

Prepared

To accept

The unacceptable








Two days from shore

But

No one knew



How history can

Be made

By this








Antelope and gazelle

Fast beneath

The bluest sky

He’s seen



And now

Will see no more








It doesn’t have to be

Fast

To be done



It just

Has to be done



You can afford

To relax








A troublesome anchor

Drags the whole

Enterprise

Into the realms

Of the laughing stock



Pull it up

For God’s sake!








This page

Feels thicker

Than it should be



It isn’t

But it feels that way








Wheelbarrow

Take me back

Toward the shipping lane



I’m too tired

To walk








Bruise the sky!

The rain’s coming!

The rain’s coming!

We’re lost

If we don’t act now!








Superstition

And peasantry



No wonder a crew

Gets harder

Every year








Where will the last

Push

Come from?



Desire?

Or dereliction?








Circle the wagons

And drop to your knees

Pocahontas



The world can’t wait

For us to catch

Up to you








The wave reached

The top

But it was no

Perfect storm

To speak of








Holy Cross

Holy Order



Holy hell

There’s nothing boredom

Won’t decide








Plato is

As

Plato does








A fine mess

We now seem

To find ourselves in



Hoist the sail!

Let’s make the best

Of it then








Sugar and Spice

And all things

Nice



That’s what

Trade Wars

Are made of








Seven cannons

Thirty-two hundred

Rounds

Of ammunition



How does this thing

Still float?








Let me give you

A tip -

Leprosy’s not something

To share

Between friends








Having been becalmed

For days

The crew had finally

Run out

Of Monopoly money








Purse strings

And pearl necklaces

The captain’s eye’s

Shone

For the first time

In months



It was a bad sign








Keep your finger

On the trigger

And don’t let go

Until I tell you to








Shocking how short

Something seems

When you’re taking

Forever

To finish








A loss to the

Pirates

Is a loss

To us all



Obviously








It’s getting more exciting

As the days go on



That’s what

They tell me








Shaking loose

The shackles of conquest

He looks to the

Horizon

And falls off








Forty days

And we’re only

Half way








Trust is a near thing

But it isn’t

Near enough

For us to trust anything

He says








Bell yard

Dog yard

Ship yard

Grave yard








Certain aspects

Of timing

Leave much

To be desired








And the rush is on



Oars in!

Oars out!



Turn around you

Mangy curs!

Look what’s behind you!








Seen in the distance

It doesn’t look anymore

Than what we left

Behind






Taken over

The choice of a new

Generation



Same again

Same again








Pure spit

And landslide aching

Jaws aflex

Swords

At the ready








The secret is not

In the telling

But in the book

On the bedside

Table








Surely there is more

To this

Than simple pleasure?








I don’t know why

They complain so much



Could it be me?








Tassels and

Golden ropes

Beguiling wenches

Notwithstanding








Hail porter!

A drink!

A drink to all the

Fallen

And dispossessed!








Captain!

My captain!

Show what is

The true meaning

Of the word!!








And

From that day forth

They never thought

To question him

Again








Might have

Got away

With that one








The mournful cry

Of the squeezebox

Echoing

In the distant

Climax








Sing us a song

Sailor!

Sing

For the lost cause

You know this to be








I saw the ship

A ‘coming

I knew at once

To leave

But naught I knew

Of where the crew

Or captain

Were to be








Engineering -

More power!



I cannae gi’ y’

Nay more

Capin’!








While the sharks

Swim

And the whales

Sing

We wait for the tide

And the change

Of wind








Fourteen miles

To the shore, I see

Fourteen miles

To be gone

Just fourteen miles

And at last

We’re free!

Only fourteen miles

And we’re done!








What of the first mate

And the cabin boy?



Surely they’re not

Left behind?








I’m a punch

Like a bass note

Through the pretence

Of silence








The ship comes to rest

Three miles from shore



Row you maggots!








Sand

At last!

After all these

Months!

Land!

Land I tell you!!



Doesn’t get better

Than this








Who’s playing

The piano?








This land of ours

I’ve searched

But cannot find



What map

Will provide the answer?








Soak it in lads

Soak it in



Ours I tell you!

Ours!!








They set off to

Explore



For what

They did not know



For whom?

They would not say








I did not think

This island

Would be so

Small








Trees

But no food



Caves

But no shelter



Animals

But no hunting



What?







Nothing here



There is literally



Nothing here








There are

The mosquitoes



Oh yes



Plenty of them








Grumblings








To

Come

All

This

Way

For

Nothing



That’s why they call it

Chance








The ship again

Is underway

Her crew

An angry shout

For seven months

They have toiled

For a cause

And have come back

Home

With nowt








A small cross

A hurried mound

A captain’s hat








A ship

On the horizon



Is that a ship

On the horizon?








No survivors



No surprise





See Through







There must be

A window in here

Somewhere







Something to open





To unlock

And push out





Just for

Some breeze



Only a little





A little



Surely



Isn’t too much



To ask?







I don’t know

How long

I’ve been here





I don’t know

Where I was

Before







I don’t even

Know



Where here



Is







It’s been a while





Four years?







Seven?







That pause

Is telling me

Nothing







It feels as if

My whole life

Has been spent

Looking for a window





Something

To see through





Yet

I’m not trapped



I don’t feel

Trapped





I can leave

Anytime I want



Of course I can

It’s just



I

don’t

want

to





I don’t want to







Really



I can



I don’t







Really





I’ve been out

Before







I’ve been out

Many times



But



I don’t like out





I

like

it

here





It’s quiet

It’s warm

It’s clean

It’s known







Out there



Well



It’s unknown





Everyone

Knows that





But

In here?



I know

Everything





Except where the window

Is





I don’t know that





I’ve been looking

I’ve been looking

All around

And it’s not like

I can’t see



I can see

Very well





I can see:



Two doors

One table

One chair

One bed

One ‘fridge

Four corners







But no window

That’s not true

Though

Is it?





There are no less

Than five

Windows





Two on one wall

And three

On the others





But



I can’t reach them





They’re too high



And the other



Is too low





I can see

Out of

The low one





I can see:



Dirt

Earth

Rock

Shit





But I can’t

See out

Of the high ones



I have no ladder

You see







I’ve stood on

The bed





I’ve stood on

The chairs





I’ve stood on

The table





But I can see

Nothing



For I am not

Tall enough



And they are not

Tall enough







So

I cannot

See through





But

I’ve been out

And I know

What’s there





Though it isn’t

The same

As being able

To see





Isn’t there more?



Isn’t there touch?

Isn’t there smell?



What’s so good

About see?






See?





See is

Everything





See is beauty





See is wonder





See

Is the first thing

You see





So

I want a window

So I can see





So I don’t

Have to go

Out





So I don’t

Have to

Smell





So I don’t

Have to

Touch





So I don’t

Have to

Hear





These things

Are fine



All fine





But they are

Not



See





I just want

To see



I just want

A view





You pay more

For a view



Right?





You don’t pay more

For a

Smell





You don’t pay more

For a

Hear





You don’t pay more

For a

Touch



(well, sometimes)







You always pay more

For a

See



Always





A room

With a view



Or a room

With no view






Preference?






I thought so







I want a window





A window

I can

See through





So I don’t

Have to

Go out





Because

Out there

You have to







Smell

Hear

Touch

Taste





And I

I just want

To see





Is it really

Too much

To ask?





©David Francis Jeffery 2018

Other books by David Francis Jeffery on Smashwords include:


BORE

No truth to the rumour

50 Haiku

The Unfulfilled

HA/VE

The Anti-book

Reporting from the Bombsite

Another 50 Haiku

The Host

The Cardboard Writings

Refugees

Falling Houses on a Tightrope Journey

The light beside the reading chair is weeping

New Plays

Letters to the Sunday Age

Minor Diversions

You’re going to laugh at this


All these ebooks are available on the Smashwords website.


Thoughts, remarks, insults and death threats to: davidjeffery@y7mail.com




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