“Theo”
Another rewrite.
“Theo”
Theo is with us no more
And I fear I might be to blame.
Only tangentially
I meant him no harm.
I mused his mortality on Saturday
And he deceased pre-dawn on Monday.
His manner of passing
A show of irony
A street performance
Under the aegis of the Absurdist Supreme
Who hearing silent thoughts
Often likes to act them out
Just for the craic.
Theo was a broken thorn in society’s side
turned septic.
A busted flush, best avoided.
Sour sweat oozed from every pore
As with stale breath
He wheedled small change or more
To bet on greyhounds that ‘could not lose’
“I’ll see you right when the six dog wins.”
His choice would be headed on the line
And Theo would drag deep on a chain lit cig
And squint around for another mug to promise
He’d “see right when the coffin box dog wins”.
And if it won, Theo was fast away
Hotfooting pronto for a pack of fags.
“The dogs” were Theo’s forte
He studied form, made shrewd selections
An expert
A beggar in rags.
Few dogs ran to script.
Fast starters missed the break.
Wide dogs railed.
Finishers?
Crowded at the third or pulled up lame.
Saturday morning.
He stood at the winnings counter.
Rheumy eyes glinting with victory.
Getting paid out on a twenty pence Yankee
Forty pounds odd – call it fifty.
I did not ask Theo to ‘see me right’ at last
Instead I stared into the frosted glass windows of his soul
And thought, “What are you living for?
What keeps you here…and why?
There’s nothing left for you, but to die.”
Theo was drifting
without a rudder
in a squalid urban sea
And it came as a shock
To realise
it was just the same for me.
I saw Theo walking
Monday morning early.
I was buying bread for toast
and milk for tea.
Theo was eyes down
sniffing out dog ends
assiduously:
Neither seeing me
nor the dust cart
that brushed him aside
to eternity.
Bread for toast,
milk for tea,
and a bunch of fuchsias
to tie to a tree.
Another of your captivating tales, you had me ‘chain smoking’ every line, could not put them down untill the very last puff! The second to last verse actually gave me a jolt as I hadn’t seen it coming either, the ‘brushed aside to eternity’ was top class. Super stuff :-)) Sue.
Thanks, Sue, it is a true story about a really sad character. He never looked when crossing roads and the particular spot has had a number of tragic accidents.
I wrote it probably last year but am recently editing my stuff – taking out unnecessary words, so hopefully, the images will become sharper and not dulled by excessive words – over use of adjectives can smother a work.
Rick 🙂
A very fine poem, truly captured my attention line by line…Leila
Thanks for your kind comments 🙂
Rick.
A moving observational epitaph to a local and obviously colourful character. “Theo was eyes down sniffing out dog ends assiduously: Neither seeing me nor the dust cart that brushed him aside to eternity” – captured the trgedy perfectly.Mitch
Thanks, Mitch. The part you quoted took ages and at least a dozen rewrites to get right 🙂