Is this the veritable life and quite distinct from fantasy?
A seismic shift prohibits my elopement from veracity,
If you would care to disocclude your eyes and scan the firmament,
My impecuniosity you may perceive as permanent.
Condolences, however, will be far from a necessity,
Since unconstrained arrivals and departures, depth and levity
Display the insufflation of the zephyr or the hurricane,
And matter less to me than would a ninja with a shuriken.

Maternal parent, I confess to aggravated homicide,
To someone's cortex and cerebral lobes a firearm I applied,
And when I by a modicum of pressure made the weapon fire,
The damage to his brain ensured he had no choice but to expire.

Mamma, my brief existence I've appended to the garbage heap,
Accept my firm denial of intention to cause you to weep,
If one diurnal cycle fails to prompt my reappearance,
Maintain as is your habit an expression of indifference.
My opportunity has passed, and history's arrived for me,
A nervous frisson flows along the fibres of my vertebrae,
Rheumatic pains and twinges fill my edifice corporeal,
Whilst I convey my parting with a word valedictorial.

I have to move away from you to let the facts be verified,
Progenitrix, the prospect of extinction makes me terrified,
And this is why your loving son performs this oratorio,
Occasionally I wish I'd given up whilst still an embryo.

Against a lighted backdrop I perceive a figure shown in black,
Diminutive and masculine, and dancing like a maniac,
Whilst I implore a character from stock Italian opera
To join me in a dance from the Iberian peninsula.
Electric discharge from the atmosphere intimidating me,
Together with the Florentine inventor of telescopy,
The hero of Rossini's operating Barber of Seville,
And noblemen of Venice, in what could be seen as overkill.

Alone and unenamoured I reiterate my bankruptcy,
These gentlemen will testify to my insolvent ancestry,
And though they recommend that I forego this aberration,
They seem far less convinced when I request my liberation.
No, in the name of Allah, the all-seeing, the all-merciful,
They will not set me free till these poor specimens of verse are full,
Till my Italian mother frees me there will be no rest for me,
The Prince of the Inferno has a demon he'll invest for me.

[guitar solo]

I gather you believe that you can injure me with masonry,
And salivate with force into my iris with impunity,
And after a liaison of significance erotical
Abandon me to my decease from causes anatomical.
O infant child, in this regard confess your inability,
My fugitive persona I'll remove from this vicinity,
Oh yes, it's evident that I preserve complete neutrality
To unpredictability of breezy meteorology.

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All material © Philip Purser-Hallard 2003 except where otherwise noted, and not to be used without permission.