I'm Standing In The Wind But I Never Wave Bye-Bye...But I Try

Mother got in very late the other night. She had this freak Nirab, leader of the big shot Christian sect, with her.

- Just away to the little girls' room, - went mother, me cringing.

Nirab came over and plonked himself down on the arm of the chair I was sitting in.

- Yer ma's hot stuff, - he went.
- Don't be getting any ideas. Anyway, I thought you were a man of God? Didn't think you lot went in for sins of the flesh?
- We've all our temptations and shortfalls, Danny. Especially us ones that're drawn to the divine...ha! That's a good one isn't it? I think I'll use it on yer mother, hey? What do you think...'Mildred...years I have sought the Divine, but I'm never closer to it that when I am by your side.'...What you think, Danny? - He went, licking his chops.
- I think you better get out before I tell my mother the sort of man you really are!
- Don't be darft! Your mother knows the sort of man I am. She wouldn't be after me if she didn't.
- I know your sort...Jim Jones, Charley Manson, Jesus...fuckin do a few parlour tricks and say yer the Son Of Man and you get to snake any girl that crosses yer path! 

I was getting red in the face.

Mother reentered the room.

- What you yelling at Nirab for, Danny? - Whimpered mother.
- He's a fuckin pervert, - I went.
- I know. And ain't it grand?! He's sexually very adventurous!
- You ever seen a woman squirt before, Danny? - Went Nirab, his rheumy right eye red and glinting.
- Yeah, master of it, - I went.
- Yer ma doesn't leave much to be desired you know, in the bedroom. See that tattoo she got on her ankle.
- Oh yes this lovely dolphin on my ankle, - went mother cooing. - That fucking witch Sam Cameron stole that one on me.
- Well I have a theory, - went Nirab rubbing his chin, faux academical like. - I have a theory that women with tattoos take it up the hole...

I got up and went to the front door.

- Mother, I'm going. I got what I came here to get and I'm leaving.
- Thought ye'd like to join us? - went Nirab.
- Fuck off, Jonestown!

At this mother threw her head back and laughed like a loon. - Go get the lube and the shitewipe, woman, - went Nirab, loud enough for me to hear.

On the way down mother's drive I keyed Nirab's car and broke a windscreen wiper off.

I prayed that on his way home, driving up the motorway, it would start pouring and having no wipers to clear his window to see where he was going and nowhere to stop he'd plough headfirst into the back of an articulated lorry at not an inconsiderable speed and die instantly.

I sat listening to records at home and dropped the last of the acid I'd creamed off the Jewish Hippies.

I reflected on mother's infatuation with Nirab, putting this one on to colour my surmisings:

Can You Find Me Sanctuary

I was walking up my street early this evening having been down the The Village on the Donegal Road all day buying some acid I were fencing to this cabal of Jewish Hippies that'd come up to Belfast for the day from Tallaght, Dublin.

So I were walking back up my street and this trio of spidelings (i.e. spides/smicks under the age of 10 and a half) were playing in the street, stomping a guinea pig to death, when one of them sticks his nose in the air, this wee Golem lookin fuckin one, and turns and sees me coming, and shoots the evil eye at me while tapping away at his buddy on the shoulder for him to look and see me coming, too.

So they're all, the three of them, alert to my coming, like they'd been waiting for me. They get up off the ground, stop stomping that guinea pig to death, and run over and sit down on the footpath against my front wall. And they begin: harmonising like the Beach Boys, wretched as a Greek Chorus: 

- Here, here, c'mon and lick my ballsack, lick my ballsack, lick my ballsack, won't ye please? Here, here, c'mon and hire my Cossack, hire my Cossack, hire my Cossack, they almost work for free!!!

On and on they sang, their crystal annunciations pouring from the faces of choirboys.

Then when I went to go up my path one of em gets up and gets in my way. I try and step round him but he blocks me.

- Here! My mate says ye licked his ballsock? Tha' true?
- Wouldn't lick his ma's gash. Don' like fish, me.
- Hear wha' he's sayin'? - Says the little cunt to his mates. - He's gonna go home and tell his da you licked his ballsock. His da's gonna come roun' here and fuckin' knack you out!
- Well, he knows where I live. Tell him I'll be in all night. And I'll be waiting for him.
- Big talk, Comanche. But he'll fuckin tear ye a new one, -
- Good. I've been meaning to renew mine anyway. So tell him I'll pay him if he likes. Now, for the meantime, get the fuck outta my road!

The child went white and stepped off.

Then I went into my house and dropped some acid.

Then I stuck on the turntable...: