MR STOKES AND MR PEOPLES

'Is that Mr. Stokes?' said Mr. Peoples from out of sight round the corner up the stairs at the back.
'You recognise his voice?' said the man sat at the table.
They were in the shop's the gallery every now and then.
'Hello Mr. Peoples,' said Mr. Stokes when Mr. Peoples appeared.
They shook hands.
'You come to buy some art?'
'If I see something I like.'
'That goes without saying.'
Mr. Stokes nodded thoughtfully, 'Of course.'
'You want me to explain the system?'
'Would you?'
It was an auction. Dutch.
Each painting had next to it a sheet of paper at the top of which was a starting price with amounts descending each day until June 6th and the artist's reserve. A bidder could write their personal number against any of the dates and that day's cost if no other bid had been made for that day. If they wrote their personal number the day of the date against which they'd written it it would mean they'd bought the painting that day at that day's price. If they wrote their personal number against a later date than the day's date they wrote it, they had to wait until the day of the date against which they'd written their personal number had arrived before the painting became theirs at that day's price. No bids could be made on a date already passed. Is that clear?
'So I can buy something today?' said Mr. Stokes.
'If you see something you like,' said Mr. Peoples.

THE DOG

A dog walked into a job centre, sat down at an advisor's desk.
The dog crossed its legs and said to the advisor, 'I'm looking for a job.'
The advisor, taken aback at the dog in front him asking for a job, said, 'How about the circus?'
'Why?' said the dog. 'They need a plumber?'

TIME FOR A DRINK

I'm bored...
...mind numbingly, jaw droppingly, head achingly, upper lip stiffingly, cheek turningly, nose scratchingly, eye pokingly, ear clippingly bored...
...bored, bored, bored, bored, bored...
...leg stretchingly, knee bendingly, shin towingly, toe curlingly, foot stampingly, buttock clenchingly, thigh slappingly, bone crunchingly bored...
...bored bored bored bored bored...
it's time for a drink...

I UNDERSTAND

'Can you drop me off here?' I said to the driver of the number five bus.
'Sorry,' he said. 'I can't.'
I was standing at the front of the bus was waiting at the traffic lights, junction of City Road and Stokes Croft.
'You let the other man off back there after the stop,' I said.
'That's because I forgot to let him off,' he said. 'You saw when I got there the woman waved me through.'
'I did,' I said.
'Thing is,' he said, 'we're closer into town and I could get seen and then I'd be in trouble.'
'Seen by an Inspector?'
'No,' he said, 'another driver.'
'Really? I know an inspector would turn you in but another driver?'
'Yes,' he said. 'We've got these books and if we see anything wrong we're supposed to write it down and if we report it they give us a reward or something like that.'
'A bit of divide and rule?'
'Exactly,' he said. 'And some of the white drivers use it to get back at the ones they don't like.'
'Outrageous,' I said, genuinely appalled.
By this time we were on Stokes Croft and the driver was slowing the bus into my stop, the last one before St. James Barton.
'Thank you,' I said.
'Okay. And I'm sorry.'
'That's alright,' I said. 'I understand.'

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

Watching, having just sat down with a single to Easton, two teenage girls deciding to get on the bus or not. They hug, like a while, before one gets on. Then the other when the driver threatens to close the doors. The irritation comes all the way back to me.
'On the bus, see you soon,' text, let her know I won't be long.
The windows could do with a clean.
Past the flowers and the messages written on the pavement for Troy:
'Troy you in heaven now, don't need weed to get high, Love always.'
'You were the best, miss you forever.'
Newspaper story taped to the lamppost – Troy in bold black letters - a note from the family saying, thanks, it means a lot.
The two girls talking, not quite hearing what they say 'til Stapleton Road.
'“Who the fuck you think you are telling me what to do?” or “Fuck off telling me what to do”?'
'What's the difference?'
'One's askin' the other's tellin'.'
'How about, “Fuck off and leave me alone,”?'
'I don't want him to leave me alone, just stop telling me what to do.'

PAPERS

He held my head back, prised my mouth open, began pulling my teeth out one by one.
'You should see a dentist,' he said. 'Your breath is worse than I could have imagined.'
'Thank you,' looking up at him, his dark eyes magnified by the lenses of National Health glasses not unlike those I wore getting beaten up by skinheads in nappies. 'I was talking to my boss the other day and my teeth were rotting, I could feel them getting soft and the taste was awful.'
'What happened?'
'Well,' I said, not at all embarrassed , 'he started to retch then he vomited before I could finish what I was saying.'
'How rude,' he said.
'That's what I thought.'
When he'd finished re-arranging the furniture he showed me his penis.
'Why are you doing that?' I said.
'Because you're a cunt.'
'Doctor,' I said. 'You must discharge me immediately and put this man to bed.'
'Willingly,' he said and gave me my papers.

BIG MOUTH

'This is horrible,' I said about the coffee of which I'd just taken a sip.
We were in our friend's cafe for lunch having met outside the Galleries, Broadmead.
'I hate it here,' she said as we walked towards Union Street. 'It always makes me want to buy things.'
'That's the idea,' I said.
Back at the coffee, I said, 'Here, try it.'
'It's weak,' she said.
'Well,' I said, 'it just isn't good enough. The food's lovely but this won't help, we have to say something.'
'I'll take it back,' she said, 'when I get some pudding.'
'Swap it for pudding,' I said.
She got up from the table, went to the counter, came back with a chocolate brownie.
'What she say?'
'She said I could have this,' she said, 'free.'
'Mmm,' I said.
Here, have a bite.'
'No thanks.'
'Go on,' she said, 'or I'll feel guilty.'
I took a bite.
'You've got a big mouth,' she said.

TOGETHER

There was Truck coming out of Superdrug, Broadmead.
We walked towards each other on mutual recognition. Unsure he'd want a word. The last time I wrote about him, which wasn't about him at all, it occasioned my exclusion by a mutual friend. I learned anything can be used to fulfill any agenda if you look and think hard enough.
'What you up to?' he said after we'd shook hands.
'I'm off to a cafe for coffee, do some work,' I said. 'I've got my notebook with me,' tapping my bag. 'What about you?'
'Lam Rim,' he said.
'I know it.'
'There's a group meditation, keep my practice together,' he said. 'Mostly I do it on my own but it's easy to do less than I want.'
'It can help being in a group,' I said, knowing what I was saying.
We talked computers. I told him about my NC-10 and he said he'd got the Asus, though he hadn't got online yet.
'You use a router?'
'There's so many in the flats I piggyback one of those so I don't need one,' I said. 'That's why I got this, well, one of the reasons. I wanted to be portable because I like to work in cafes and this is so light, unlike a full laptop, and it's top of the range, I couldn't resist it.'
'I know,' he said, 'and the Asus is the next one down.'
'You got the EEE?'
'That's the Acer,' he said. 'The Asus's better than that. And I know what you mean about the weight. I've carried the bags of visitors up to my flat and they've had a laptop in the bag and, well, never again.'
We laughed.
'Anyway,' I said, and we moved towards his bike. 'I'm off for that coffee.'
'Where you going?'
'Soho.'
'Where's that?'
'The Circus.'
'The Devil's Hole,' he said.
'Yes,' I said. 'Next time we meet you got time, let's go together.'

JANE IS ON THE TRAIN

Jane is on the train, Jane who John said fancied me. 'Why don't you ask her out?'
...John who I didn't phone twenty years ago when stuck in London needing a bed for the night but slept beneath a bench in Trafalgar Square...
...John, who I stayed with in Bristol, looked after when he sprained his ankle,
...John, who I played in a band with, drank Special Brew, did hot knives, walked around town on benefit in Thatcher's Britain laughing at Bob's joke, 'What's green and gets you pissed?'
...John, who Jane asked, 'How do you keep your sylph like figure?'
...and Jane is on the train, on her way back home, or visiting?
When I walk past her on my way off the train at Reading, will she recognise me? Not that I noticed, but she might already have remembered and turned away to avoid a knowing look, 'So what?'
So what? So if she still sees him I'd like her to tell John she saw me so he thinks of me one more time.

LOCAL TOPICAL POLITICAL COMMENT

The following comment, handwritten in slanting blocks on a piece of A4 paper pinned on the residents noticeboard next to the lift near the back entrance on the ground floor level, appeared today.

HERE COME THE GURKHAS
THEY CAN FIGHT THE SOMALIS
FOR THE FEW REMAINING PLACES
IN THIS MONGREL COUNTRY.

I'd like to know who wrote this and the evidence used to construct the argument...a place to begin...

A BASIC FAULT

- a basic fault found on the borderline...
Four took me to one side at the front door, told me about the row the early hours...
'...two police cars and a van parked just there, across the road, I came out on the balcony, bollock naked, see what the shouting was all about, a police looked up, couldn't see me all, but you know...'
'yeh,' I said, 'who was it, you know?'
'the woman from eleven, you might know her, blond hair...'
'no'
'...she's okay, during the day that is, but at night,' he said, 'it's not the first time I've heard her.'
'you know what it is?'
'the man on the eight, weird, writes letters to all the women'
'what's he say?'
'oh, “come and see me, suck my dick,” stuff like that'
'nice'
'gets a few hits but pisses a lot of people off'
'like her?'
'no, she's just jealous,' he said, 'you know what women are like, get jealous'
'yeh'
'someone seeing her boyfriend pissed her off, set her off, off she went'
'a lot of offing'
'loud too,' he said, 'woke me up, and I've got cataracts'
his eyes were cloudy, I saw

SUE

on Stokes Croft I saw Sue
and on Stokes Croft Sue saw me
not for the first time
since way back when she knew me
and I knew her
but it's the first time since that time
there was a smile passed between us
and you, yes you, you should have seen us
or maybe not for it wasn't that hot
when way back then she knew me
and I knew her

and when I'd seen her
(that's today her, not back then her)
just after, as I crossed the road
it made me wonder whether it's because
I'm so oft a presence on Stokes Croft
that all those Sues from way back when
those sights, those ones who I once knew
choose Stokes Croft, this site to view
to show themselves reminding
that the way back then belongs back then
with Sue

THE CARDINAL

'Be careful,' she said as I climbed up onto the wall the top embedded with sharp pieces of glass.
The plastic corrugated roof of the neighbour's lean to at the back of his house was vibrating in time to the music had woken us in the middle of our social dreaming.
'Oi, what the fuck you think you're doing?' shouted the neighbour as he ran from deep in his house to the back door he opened and said, 'The police are outside. I called them when I heard you were coming.'
The children helped me off the wall before running along the dark alley to the front of the house where by the blue flashing lights of several patrol cars I saw them attack the police.
'You're coming with us,' said an Inspector grabbing my arm.
Behind him I saw the children cuffed, under arrest.
'Let me talk to the Cardinal,' I said. 'I've met him, I know him.'
The Inspector let me go. I made my way through the crowd had gathered, passed Derek who was on a break from filming Criminal Minds, turned left up the lane to wasteland where the Cardinal had last been seen in robes and a crown.
A man, hands in the low pockets of an olive green cardigan, walked towards me: The Cardinal.
'I need your help,' I said.
A word from him and the police let the children go. I made sure Derek's son was safe before joining the others walking a path lined with young trees.
Not before too long we came to an old well maintained house adjacent to a church through a large window at the front of which I could see a crucifix, collection plate, a trapeze artist waving.
Soon it was time to leave.
The Cardinal carried a tray, on it four glasses, a bottle he opened with a corkscrew.
I thought this might be the last time I saw him and felt like crying but he filled the glasses, gave one to me, raised his, made a toast: Nice to meet you, he said, someone I know will be a good friend for life.
My turn, my toast - Thank you for helping, I said, in a situation I needed your help.

EASTON TOUR DATES

Thebus asked if I wanted to play in a pool tournament, Tuesday, 'There's Roni and Dad,' he said. 'I've asked them, too.'
'Oh,' I said, 'I thought you meant the real thing.'
'Well, it would be,' he said. 'At the Loaf, when the farting socialists play.'
'Tempting,' I said, 'but I'm watching the football at Island's.'
'What time's that then?' he said, and, 'You could come after,' when I told him, 'get Island down as well.'
It's true, I could do all that.
Earlier, Dub'd said why don't I come down the Greenbank, Tuesday, play a few tunes at the open mic.
'If I didn't have to be there,' he said when I told him I'd be watching the football, 'I'd do the same.'
But talking with Thebus made me think I could do all three: the Greenbank, football (second half only), the Loaf.
'It'll be like a tour,' I said, so I phoned Island told him the change of plan.
'You still want to come eat?' he said.
'Yes,' I said..

20:00 The Greenbank
21:00 Football
22:00 The Sugar Loaf

JEANIE ON THE BUS

Jeanie was on the bus. I'd bought, 'Warwick Road, single, thanks,' to the driver and sat next to her, on the edge of the seat my legs in the aisle, one of two bags on my lap.
Cabot Circus, just before the lampost with flowers and newspaper headlines for Troy, killed there a few days earlier, Jeanie was saying to an older couple, about her age by the looks, sat in front of her, 'This is the first time I've been here, I've not been here before, I don't like it.'
'I prefer how it was before.'
'Me too,' said Jeanie. 'We don't need all these shops here and people coming to spend their money instead of shopping local,' warming to her theme. 'You remember the shops in Armoury Square, Stapleton Road?' she said.
'By the pub?'
'Yes,' she said. 'Well I was telling someone about them the other day and they said there'd never been any shops there, so I said, “How long have you lived here?” and of course it wasn't long so I said, “If you don't know what you're talking about, Shut your mouth.”'
Both the woman and the man in front of me and Jeanie, laughed and I turned to Jeanie who looked at me and smiled.
Armoury Square, Jeanie got up to get off the bus and a woman from across the aisle, getting up said, 'You getting off here too?'
'How long have you lived here?' said Jeanie.

TAINTED

On may way to Staples, bottom of the M32, in House of Fraser, they had what I wanted, talked to me nice and showed me where to get free software rather than buy it - and from them, yet - so although I paid a little more than I would than where I'd planned I said to myself on the way home carrying the bag careful, 'I don't mind paying more if I get good service,' like I just had.
If I'd gone elsewhere after that kind of attention the product would've been tainted and I don't like my products tainted.

TOILET FIX

‘It doesn’t take much,’ he said, ‘does it.’ coming out of the toilet in the laundry which I myself, on occasion of being on the job, have used, his trousers around his buttocks the way younger men do makes me want to shout or, if close enough, tell them, ‘Pull your trousers up,’ his belt in his hand -
‘What doesn’t?’
-giving the game away -
‘Someone’s had a shave in there and didn’t wash the sink around,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t take much, I was saying.’
Looking at him and thinking, ‘Why’s he telling me this, his belt in hand makes it obvious what he’s up to, trying to make out he was there legit, like I care, too.’
I said, ‘You wouldn’t think so.’
‘Well, I’ve done it now,’ he said, earning his occupation.
Long job was it? as he’d been fifteen minutes, more time than I’d’ve took cleaning a sink.
‘Well,’ he said. eyes on the clock, ‘Better go.’
‘Yeh,’ I said, ‘you better had.’