Today we were fortunate enough to have been sent these marvellous poems by ex Driver, Guard and present Signalman - Iain Dunlop.
We are informed that the 'Croydon Bard',
whom incidentally is also one half of up and coming band 'Joe 90's Dad'
and has just been offered a publishing deal with Minerva Press and hopes
to have his first book of 50 poems out later this year. As can be seen,
Iain is a much travelled enthusiast with a talent for social commentary
and an eye for detailed observation.
'Buckets and Spades'
Once, quite late on in the year
and against the advice of others
I took a trip to Skegness.
The damp air, somnolent gloom
and general feeling of helplessness
did nothing to revive the tedium of
travel.
What went through Billy Butlin's mind
when he first set eyes on these windswept
acres who can tell.
The sea a glimmering mirage at least
a mile
distant, brings on a thirst not for
drink but for hell.
Row upon row of amusement arcades
penny pinching wonders that rob
the unwary and gullible alike of their
holiday wedge.
And out on the gormless parade the
rusting
fun fair bring health and safety inspectors
in coach parties, with clipboards,
hard-hats
and brown ale.
Seagulls dive bomb North by North West
skilfully whisking away your overpriced
chips
a food cycle created without warning
given credence by official censure
to these unwanted guests.
How long will people be prepared
to traipse out to this uncertain paradise
now that Bateman's is piss and the
20's have gone.
'90 Eats Mondeo Man'
(inspired by that stretch of the WCML
at Watford Gap)
90 eats Mondeo Man, struggling with
his wrist
self help practice groups
strobe light underground it's flaccid
to resist
indulgence, he's all to aware
sneaks up like a snake
pro-active to a man, servile beyond
compare
recognition cannot fail to impress
the less
face ghouls of personnel
Mondeo, Mondeo those words reek of
piss
happy eater heroes with ketchup on
their ties
the ransom remains, the golf driven
wind
annihilate any hope of recovery,
performance means pounds which ever
way you look at it
Man of the hour, boardroom dickhead,
cultured idol
a paladin with notable excess in handbasin
department
an unlit luminary overtaken by the
raffish dysentery
of his existence, what a loser, what
a shit.
'Pigswill Junction'
Endless facts and figures corrupt the
brain
M.R. Doggett from Brixham on the buzzer
the thin mouth wolf guarding the entrance
to his dreams
closes the door slowly, licking its
chops on irrelevant detail.
What we have here is the cream of the
Provinces
a sour note on a succession of double
barrelled quiz games
loaded to fuck with intelligence
a constant stream of liturgical pigswill
a house of horrors to the uninitiated
in such things
with hold it smiles straight out of
the mausoleum.
students compete with each other in
their digs
watching countdown and waiting for
the gorgeous
Carole vordaman to fuck up.
The soap suds of our memory churn up
such gems
as blockbuster and then further back
'ask the family'
with the delightful Robert Robinson,
could
middle class Britain ask for a better
antidote.
Quite Happy To Do Fuck All
line the days up end to end
the daily post, trash mail
thompson's local guide
endless coupons and throwaway mags
all of this shit clogs the hall
but i'm quite happy to do fuck all
unwashed cutlery, burnt pans
festering cups jostle each other
for premium space in the sink
the knock-on effect of a dissolutioned
weekend
clothes left where they fall
but i'm quite happy to do fuck all
the best place is in bed
along with the wragly bear
out of harms way and into
the arms of morphius
let the telephone ring
because i'm quite happy to do fuck
all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A professional railwayman of over 12 years, Iain Dunlop has had ample time to ponder life's intricacies. Firstly, from the back of a train as a guard, then as train driver, and more recently as signalman, his observations and takes on modern life have been accumulated first hand.
A product of late sixties/early seventies working class Britain and brought up on a steady diet of long bitter strikes and a seemingly endless stream of Carry On films, he first achieved somewhat limited notoriety at the age of just ten when he appeared as an extra in an episode of the TV show 'On The Buses'.
Possessing a moribund fascination with Lincolnshire, South Humberside and parts of South East Yorkshire, Dunlop spends his spare time taking full advantage of generous rail travel concessions by visiting the finer working men's clubs and pubs in these areas.
His work completely reflects this.
Iain Dunlop's home is in Croydon, Surrey with long-time girlfriend Vicki and their two cats.