Guest spot: Guilty as charged by Maria Manuela Cardiga

Claude and Maud
Were flawed.

They were the kind
Of couple you avoid
On principle at parties;
The kind that makes you
Want to sign petitions
To place restrictions
On the unsupervised
Reproduction
Of the citizens
Of our fair Nation.

I know that sounds bad...
But really, what can I say?
Maud and Claude
Were flawed,
And not in
An interestingly
Artistic way.

Oh no!
Not Claude and Maud!
They were bored,
And so, of course,
Were boring.

In a perfect world
This could have been
Overcome if they were poor.
Poverty; paucity of means
Makes people resilient,
If not always brilliant.

But alas Maud and Claude
Had a Trust Fund.
Millions carefully squirreled
Away by some ancestor
And passed down or willed
To these two, who
Were only too thrilled
To spend it all
In as unwise and
Frivolously futile a way
As could be devised.

(yes Officer, I was
advised of my rights!)

So as I was telling you,
Claude and Maud
Walked into my Gallery
A week ago
And had the audacity
To make a bid
On the most delicate
And delicious
Little Matisse…
Just as lovely a piece
As you can imagine!

(Would you please stop
Blabbering about a lawyer?
You keep interrupting
My story!)

The truth of the matter is,
They bought the painting.
They signed the check,
And I signed
The deed of sale,
And that is when
This little tale
Went pear-shape-
Cause Maud exclaimed:
“Oh no! Claude!
Look! That shade
Will just clash terribly
With the new drape!”
And she pointed her
French-manicured claw-
(No, I don’t give a shit
About the Miranda law!)
At the heavenly hue
Behind the dancer’s
Left boob.

“Never mind pet!”
Claude consoled her
“I have a tin of
Clover Green
In the garage
I’ll just brush
It over that awful blue…”

And then, Officer,
I swear it’s true!
I  just felt that
Phillip Stark cork-screw
In my hand
And that
Was the end of that.

In my defence?
Well, I don’t have one!
You see, the Matisse
Was just so perfect?
And Maud and Claude
So flawed?
That I thought
The trade
Quite worth it…

Oh, brother (part 26) by Grant Harbison

Ilirium and the group were rudely awoken

Shortly after dawn had broken

By the sound of bells and a multitude of yells

Grudgingly they raised their weary heads

And left the comfort of their makeshift beds

They shook with fear and were totally confounded

When they saw that they were completely surrounded

By a Saxon horde

Each one wielding a shield and sword

“I am Lord Dirgand and I demand to know what you are doing on my land!” yelled one on a horse to the eccentric band. “Speak, I command!”

“Begging your pardon, sire. We were unaware,” said Gypsy Jess. “I humbly ask your forgiveness and our lives to spare.”

“You expect to be let off so easily? Accept your apology and let you go free? I’ll only do that if there is something that you can offer me.”

“Of course, sire. Whatever it is you so desire.”

He stared at Shear de Lite and began to salivate. “The tall bosomy one would make the perfect mate. My wife recently passed without leaving me an heir. Release her to me and I shall be fair.”

“Sire, I think there is something you should know.”

“Do you dare refuse to let her go?”

“No, but I do feel she may not be your type.”

“Nonsense, she’s a gorgeous specimen and perfectly ripe.”

“Very well, sire. If she is the one you truly admire.”

“Gypsy, it’s for me to decide. And if I say she comes, then with me she will ride.”

Without realising that something wasn’t right

Lord Dirgand rode off with Shear de Lite

“Time to go, we’ll have to be quick,” said Gypsy Jess. “Before he discovers she also has a…”

“Yes,” Ilirium interjected. “Very soon it could be detected.”

Oh, brother (part 25) by Grant Harbison

“So what do you think of Blaine’s friends?” Truman asked Borium. “The capacity for madness from the Celts transcends.”

“None that I would choose as a friend,” replied Borium. “Each and every one would drive me around the bend. Could you imagine having any one of them as a brother? Lord have mercy on their mother.”

“Out of the brothers, Conn, I don’t mind John. But if truth be told, I find Ayre Conn cold.”

“Yes, Brother Truman, I totally agree. The ice in those eyes really chilled me.”

“The brother Mod is rather odd, wouldn’t you say? Every time I mentioned the moon, he began to bay.”

“Lepre is the one who made me perturbed. He really looks like he’s really disturbed. I mean, someone so wan I have never seen; and that croaky voice and clothes so green?”

Truman began to chuckle. “And that silly hat and the band with a buckle.”

“Let’s get finished with our chores. What do you say to a yard of ale and some of Madam Maude’s whores?”

“I would say that sounds good. Tonight I’d say that I’m really in the mood.”

“We deserve a little celebration. We wormed our way out of a sticky situation.”

 “But Borium, what if Ilirium returns? There is nothing more painful than the stake’s gruesome burns.”

“Truman, don’t you worry. I’d make sure that we got out in a hurry. Danger, one cannot see, but nothing will happen soon, please trust me.”

“Oh, those flames with the crackling lick. The stench of the victims makes me sick.”

“Truman, the first sign of danger I will surely predict. And we shall go forth to the land of the Pict.”

Truman looked at Borium with shock. “No, not the land of the Jock.”

“Not very pleasant, but better than the dock. So you better make sure you have extra socks. Pairs for our feet and pairs for our…”

“Yes, Brother Borium, I gather what you are saying. I don’t wish it to come to that. That I am praying.”    

Haven by Grant Harbison

A wish

Ostensibly candid desire

But not enough to fuel the fire

Too readily quenched

My Achilles is well and truly entrenched

Immune to resistance

Sagacity lingers at a distance

Barriers built

Susceptible only to seeping guilt

Awash

But the hedonist is so hard to quash

Propelled

Compelled

To acquiesce

To the pseudo haven that masks distress

Oh, brother (part 24) by Grant Harbison

Meanwhile in the land of the Nord

Elise Dunn

The former nun

Was agitated and terribly bored 

Although it was still Derek she truly adored

And her rights as a woman were never ignored

It simply just wasn’t enough

Derek was failing to please Elise

And satisfaction she’s just had to bluff

“Oh, Derek, such a pity about Erik,” she said as they lay in bed. “If only I could remove the monk from his head. Get him to like women instead.”

“No matter what anyone does, no matter what anyone says, nothing will make Erik change his ways. I don’t know what’s suddenly got into you. I thought we were happy, just us two.”

“And that is true,” she lied. “You know how to keep me satisfied. But I want an experience like never before. Three in the bed, or maybe even four. Do that for me. My love, I implore.”

“Never would I have imagined you would have such a yen for men. I shall allow it once, but never again.”

“Thank you, my love; it will bring me much joy. And perhaps you may enjoy watching me and another boy.”

“But we must leave this land otherwise I’d look a fool. They’d see me as a Viking with a useless tool. A warrior who is much too placid. Rumour would have it that I am flaccid.”

“Yes, my dear; I truly understand. Let’s depart to the Anglo land. I’m sure upon the Angel Isle; there are plenty of men, young and virile. You’ve made me so happy I could verily scream. I’m so excited to fulfil this dream.”

“Maybe Erik should come too. I’ve never seen my brother so utterly blue. Maybe that’s where he belongs; back with the monk he so earnestly longs.”

“Little Borium, I truly despise. But I’d just like to see his look of surprise when Erik reclaims his former prize.” 

Oh, brother (part 23) by Grant Harbison

“Gypsy Jess, you are simply the best,” declared Ilirium. “I speak from the heart and do not jest.”

“Thank you my little one. Yer heart be blessed. But best ye get dressed so that I can introduce ye to the rest.”

“Before we go, there is something I must address. I really don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress.”

“Oh, now that’s a pity. I really think ye look so pretty. But let me look and see if I mights be able to find ye a tunic and tights.” 

Jess searched through a large wooden chest

And pulled out some tights, a tunic and vest

“Put them on, it’s time to eat. And don’t be alarmed by the people ye’ll meet.”

“Why might I be alarmed? I don’t wish to meet them if I’ll be harmed.”

“What I mean is don’t ye fright. Some of them don’t be a pretty sight.”

And Gypsy Jess was absolutely right

There was the flirtatious and foxy Abigail

With the batting eyes and vixen’s tail

The large breasted and muscle bound hermaphrodite

Who went by the name of Shear de Lite

Paul, the extremely tall vociferous Gaul

Aba Azure

The one eyed Moor

Albert von Stanick

The Germanic manic

But all in all they were a hearty group

And there was joy and laughter as they continued to scoop

From the large cauldron with the wild mushroom soup

All except for Malcolm Horn

The miserable midget who eyed him with scorn

Ilirium mentioned it to Jess later that night

“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’s just uptight. Now come sit with me and see what might befall. Let’s see our future in my crystal ball.”

Jess looked into the ball and struggled for breath

“Oh my little one, I’ve just seen your death!”

“When? Tell me, I pray!”

“I don’t understand. It happened yesterday!”  

Oh, brother (part 22) by Grant Harbison

What a palaver just for a cadaver

It wasn’t an easy task getting rid of Barium

And it was a huge undertaking trying to carry him

But eventually they triumphed and managed to bury him

And even Grover was convinced that the body was Ilirium

Blaine was confused as to who had died

“A visiting monk,” Borium had lied.

Because if Blaine knew the truth

He would be mortified

After the service they went to the wake

Where there were buckets of ale and plenty of cake

That’s where Borium and Truman made a pact

That never again would they talk about the act

As Idle chatter could be a big mistake

Something that could see them burnt at the stake

Blaine rushed off to go and see Paine

Who fervently whipped him again and again 

Listening to his passionate cries

Tears began to flow from her bright blue eyes

Never had she felt so much love before

She knew it had to be sore

As she saw how the whip ripped and tore

Yet still dear Blaine cried for more

After it was over they had a kiss and a cuddle

But on the way home his head was in a muddle

Something about the previous night

Something didn’t feel right

And it troubled him much as he walked the last mile

But soon his frown turned to a smile

When he recognised three friends from the Emerald Isle

Waiting for him at the monastery

Dear friends he so longed to see

The Brothers Conn

Lepre, Ayre, Mod and John