Here I am sweeping the floor after everyone has left.
The boss never did give me a chance to sing.
He said I could. He said I'd have a big night
dedicated to my voice, if I was good enough.
Now I just walk this mop like a woman I'd love.
A woman I'd dance with, cup her thin waist,
lock onto her eyes. And I'd sing into her ear
like all sentimental lovers do.
I'd show her my voice. I'd sway crowds with it.
People would hear the truth of my voice.
But now that opportunity is gone, wasted, lost.
My voice will be known only by a few close friends.
I will sing on hot nights from a bottle of red wine.
They will sing along in those drunk moments.
And here I must sing to myself,
sweep my fortune away with the rubbish:
'Tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes
What kind of a fool
Do they take me for?
Tomorrow
A resting place for bums
A trap set in the slums
But I know the score
I won't take no for an answer
I was born to be a dancer now, Yeah!'
*Song lyrics taken from Bugsy Malone musical. Song is 'tomorrow' sang by character 'Fizzy'.
8 comments:
Now, what on earth inspired you to write about 'Fizzy'? I have to say your stuff is certainly not predictable.
A forum I visited for a few years is shutting down at the end of this month and I dedictaed a wee poem too it. The image of 'Fizzy' came to mind and I stuck with it.
It's a daft wee piece of nostalgia. In some ways its about 'rejection' more than simply about Literary Mary shutting down.
Pretty straight forward for me. I was once in Bugsy Malone. I was one of the bad guys, I got killed in the end. Typical.
A decent homage to the site.
The child is a bit of a 'motif' for me (or should I just say plainly a 'wee symbol'). It is a kind of persona, like I'm the 'daft wean' or the 'niave but flawed idiot' or 'the pitiful child who thinks everyone should forgive him.'
So it seemed fitting to use it, although I'm not exactly talking about myself, but more so see most adults (particularly those who strive to write) as still children themselves.
I like the image of the mop as a the substitute lady. [If you'd said "broom" I would've accused you of trying to sweep her off her feet].
Nicely done.
Ah yes...having the rest of the "adult" world look down their collective noses at those who write. Try being a towering 5'1" like me and it's even worse. ;)
Another thought this make me hink about is that we strive to be great even when are mediocre, average, a statistic. We 'want' to be but we do nothing to actually 'deserve' or 'demonstrate' it.
Or do we try really hard, only to find some people have their noses stuck so far up in the air they can't see our brilliance? ;)
I like it.
x
Aye its Vulgar
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