Showing posts with label Bootle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bootle. Show all posts

2015-02-18

Person or persons unknown

This is an experimental piece...  I confidently predict you'll either get it or shake your head sadly and walk away.


The inspiration for this was: "This they now do."  Again you'll either recognise the reference or you were born too late, sorry.














Person or persons unknown


I

The story so far...


II

Fleeing her parent's tiny lives in Bootle—
she meets a confidence man called—
which they steal from a warehouse behind—
they hot-wire a car and flee.

Years later, her humdrum marriage—
by strangely precise anonymous messages—
an embarrassing previous life. She panics and—
small room above a shop in Manchester.

Brooding over her predicament she flounders—
searching everywhere without—
in desperation turns to her former—
a dangerous last-ditch plan.

This they now do.

Chances upon a derelict—
sneaks past the elderly night-watchman—
to at length discover me, who she blames for—
She demands: Tell me now.  What is my life about?


III

Clearing my throat, I explain:

Fleeing Bootle you left middle-class parents—
where you met an adventurer called—
which you acquired from a man in a pub—
you borrowed a car and left town.

Years later, with your husband—
disturbing anonymous messages—
an almost-forgotten previous life. Worried you—
a flat above a shop in Manchester.

Some time later you decide—
but were unable to find—
in desperation you turned to—
who hatched a plan.

This you now did.

You were able to find an abandoned—
avoided the caretaker—
so that you could meet me here—
But tell me in your own words, and maybe I can explain.


IV

Eyes wide, she licks her lips and speaks:

I was reluctant to leave Bootle, I missed my Mum and—
with a fascinating older man called—
which we found in sacks beneath the pier—
we bought a car and moved on.

Years later, I was happily—
wild and disturbing anonymous messages—
my exciting, early life.  I had to investigate and I—
an apartment in central Manchester.

After some thought I resolved—
but careful investigation did not—
until, inspired, I looked-up my old—
I conceived a daring plan.

This we now did.

Painstaking research uncovered a late Victorian—
past the guards and tricked my way into—
to finally confront you.
Now explain!  What is the meaning of my story?


V

She is ready.  There is no choice.
Gesturing her to an armchair,
I compose my thoughts and prepare to recount...


VI

...the story so far.