Arts
This week’s theme is an invitation to the nasty ball, but how will our hosts RSVP? Will Matt and Ben cast off their nice guy shackles? Will Charlie pull a muscle trying to get there early? Is he, in fact, already there? Listen in to find out. This week also featured the second piece in Ian’s Listener Residency. MATT Friends, I cannot stand — This tiresome twist Drinking to oblivion, I’ve done before But on your birthday Is quite remiss of me. Was I charming? I distinctively recall boorishly announcing the of arrival my favourite waitress And blaming the cigarette For the vomit. Please, Give me time — I’ll choose which path to take One of drunken bastardness Or tedious sobriety. CHARLIE I'm told that I'm a free man But oppression always says that Years ago, I would have been fused to the land Giving up everything I grew That may be in the past But today, I have to do a podcast. BEN Master Paul Charles Peyton Higgitt Dreamt of a status beyond his limit He wanted his last name to last much longer He thought both barrels would make him stronger But despite a future in learning and law He filed the papers with one fatal flaw Like a child on christmas He rushed to the post Opened his present While toasting his toast And discovered that much to his middle class shame He’d gone double-barrelled And kept both middle names Master Paul Charles Peyton Peyton-Higgitt Dreamt of a status that he couldn’t mimic A costly education cost him dearly He could not stand his family to live so nearly He went to the big apple to make big money Where he hoped his big name would not seem so funny IAN The Coat It hangs, flowing vessels of muscle, and the touch is soft like the skin I connect with it. The smell it releases brings back concoctions of deadly potions that used to keep me lingering. The smell turns to taste and sits in the back of my mouth, smoothing over buds, bringing a familiar flavour. As the vessels sway,the gentle sound of fabric on fabric, pulls back memories of sleeves that wisp in the wind, like searching fingertips. The coat looks old and battered like the tree we would always see. Watching as things blossomed, watching as winter came.