Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 284

 
Today is Sunday, the 31st of March 2024.
Easter Sunday.

Happy Easter, said the squirrel.

If I am a bunny, said the white hare, I was eight days too early for Easter.
You know in some parts of the world
they say that church bells hide the Easter eggs
or at least lose them on their way back home from the Pope in Rome
where they got their Easter blessings.

And in some parts of the world, the squirrel replied,
the Great Big Red Easter Squirrel is stealing and hiding and losing the eggs.

And in another world, the hare does not want to give up, I lost a race against
a hedgehog. But I am quite certain he somehow cheated with his wife.

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"Streets Of Sorrow / Bromford Six"

Oh farewell you streets of sorrow
Oh farewell you streets of pain
I'll not return to feel more sorrow
Nor to see more young men slain
Through the last six years I've lived through terror
And in the darkened streets the pain
Oh how I long to find some solace
In my mind I curse the strain

So farewell you streets of sorrow
And farewell you streets of pain
No I'll not return to feel more sorrow
Nor to see more young men slain

There were six men in Bromford
In Guildford there's four
That were picked up and tortured
And framed by the law
And the filth got promotion
But they're still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place
And at the wrong time

In Ireland they'll put you away in the Maze
In England they'll keep you for several long days
God help you if ever you're caught on these shores
And the coppers need someone
And they walk through that door

You'll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the stinking cell
From wall to wall, and back again

A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws
Who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused,
For the price of promotion
And justice to sell
May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell

You'll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and lousy cell
From wall to wall, and back again

May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead
Kicked down and shot in the back of the head

You'll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a freezing hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell
From wall and back again

Counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell
From wall to wall and back again

Bromford and Groundhog …

 
»Brom? Hey! Brom? Brom? Bromford Bibble? Bromford Bibble, I thought that was you.«

»How you're doing? Thanks for reading my blockblog.«

»Hey. Hey. Now don't tell me you don't remember me, because I sure as heckfire remember you.«

»Not a chance.«

»Ned! Ryerson! Needlenose Ned. Ned the head. Come on, buddy. Case Western High. Ned Ryerson, I did the whistling bellybutton trick at the highschool talent show. Bing! Ned Ryerseon got the shingles real bad senior year. Almost didn't graduate. Bing again! Ned Ryerson. I dated your sister Brunhild a couple times till you told me not to anymore. Well?«

»Ned Ryerson?«

»Bing!«

»Bing. Heh. Heh. So did you turn pro with that bellybutton thing, Ned, or…?«

»No, Brom, I sell insurance.«

»What a shock.«

»Do you have life insurance? Cause if you do, you could always use a little more. Am I right? Or am I right ? Or am I right? Right? Right? Right?«

»Dude? It's too late for Groundhog Day! Punxsutawney Phil should be up from his hibernation and take care of his family.«

»I got you, animal! I Got You Babe.«

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Today is Thursday, the 28th of March 2024.

Bromford and Dinosaur - Part 2

 

»Part two of the two-parter.«

I am nodding.

»Two parts and two dinosaurs this time.«

I am nodding.

»I wonder where you are taking us this time, dude.«

»So am I, animal, I am so.«

And I am shaking my head.

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Today is Tuesday, the 26th of March 2024

Worm Moon …

 
This is the first moon of springtime. Earth awakes and is pumping life into plants and creatures. I can hear them, feel them, curling and coiling, creeping and crawling through humid soil, them worms.

I am surrounded by animals of any shapes and forms. And they are dragging me down into the ground.

»Young man.«

An elderly woman with a fat dog is poking her walking stick into my side.

»Or not so young man, if I look closer. It is too cold and damp for lying in the grass like this. Not yet pick-nick-time, this early in the morning.«

She is tugging on the leash dragging her fat dog away from me.

I watch them walking away slowly down the pathway between the still empty flower beds, bushes and small trees.

I look around. This is the Bromford Park, I recognize. Really no place to ly around in the grass at eight o'clock in the morning on a Monday morning. And I do not have the slightest idea what brought me here.

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Today is Monday, the 25th of March 2024.

Worm Moon

Yes, I′m being followed by a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow
Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands
Lose my plow, lose my land
Oh, if I ever lose my hands
Oh, if, I won't have to work no more

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 283

 

Today Saturday, the 23rd of March 2024.

Secret Life of Animals Society.

Eight days later and as nocturnal animal, the hedgehog was walking the dark streets of the town of Tupelo. The rat had filled his head with this name and its abbreviation.

The Secret Life of Animal Society, short SLAS.

Around the next corner one of those humans opened a backdoor and threw out a bag of trash and a hissing cat.

Time to take a shortcut underneath hedges and fences and through backyards, the hedgehog thought. He and his wife had a race to run, a race against a hare.

Secret Life of Animal Society. As if…

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"Santa Bromford"

From the tin rooftop the little boy did watch
The procession down through town
Through the museum where Daniel whupped the Devil
With them boys from the underground

Where the Giants of Science fight for tight control
Over the wild lands of New Mexico
Sam Houston's ghost's in Texas fighting for his soul
And the townsfolk rest uneasy beneath the guns of Kid Cole

And the kid says: "Hey, where's Santa Bromford?
He who could romance the dumb into talking
Take a chance with me tonight, my contessa
If it don't work out, I ain't lame, I can walk"

Now some folks think cancer's taken to the streets of this town
But Sandy eats her candy and then lays her money down
Them cats are in from the canyons to strut their stuff in town
But there's only secret sinners here
Lord, there's only secret thieves
Only a fool would try to save
What the desert chose to leave
And hey there, senorita
With your playboys in their Spanish bandanas
French cream won't soften those boots, baby
French kisses will not break your heart
Oh painted night set free with light
Glows outside the Rainbow Saloon
Matching braces with a Spanish lady
'Neath a graduation moon
No more colleges, no more coronations
Some punk's idea of a teenage nation
Has forced Santa Bromford to change his station
From soldier to cartoon

And the Giants of Science spend their days and nights
Not with wives, not with lovers, but searchin' for the lights
They spotted in the desert on their helicopter flights
Just to be lost in the dust and the night
Hey my Contessa, in your juke joint rags
You always bring candy for the kids
Come waltz with me tonight, senorita
'Cause only fools are alone on a night like this

Bromford and Dinosaur - Part 1

 

»Oh, no. Not one of those two-parters again. But I am not scared of this one.«

»You are not scared of two-parters, animal? Or are you not scared of dinosaurs?«

»How could I, dude? This one won't replace me as your animal companion.«

»How is that, animal?«

»This one is extinct. And it does not even look real. I mean, come on, dude. Three lines of teeths? Not even Jurassic Park made them that unrealistic, dude!«

»What if I told you, Dino was in fact in film business? And that he was the star of the next Jurassic World Movie with Chris Pratt?«

»I would you say, you are a liar, human. And that you never looked good in that white shirt and blue suits. And, of course, that you never had that much facial and chest hair.«

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Today is Wednesday, the 20th of March 2024.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 282

Today is Friday, the 15th of March 2024.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

They are boiling animals, the hedgehog called out in terror.
And they are calling me a hog who is living in the hedges.

They are boiling Shakespeare, the rat replied. It's a double shot. 

A double-pack. Elton, that's your name, hedgehog, isn't it?
Have you heard about the SLAS?

Elton is a human name. And heard about the what?
the hedgehog asked chewing an earthworm.

The Secret Life of Animals Society, the rat whispered.
Save the date. Something is going to happen...

And the hedgehog coughed a little as the rat disappeared into the night...

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"Porch Swing In Bromford"

There's a porch swing in Bromford
In the shade of the south
Where the sweet honey drips off that old hush-yo'-mouth
It's a slow road on down
That old Natchez Trace
Through Alabama cotton fields to a state of grace
It's a crisp golden Autumn
On the Tennessee line
Rolling down to Mississippi like you headed back in time
Town's closed on Sunday
Everybody's in church
It's empty as the moon this place here on earth

And this place don't change
Some places move slow
I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Bromford
I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze
Ghosts of the old south are all around me
Yea swing high, yea swing low
Here on this porch swing in Bromford

His mama must have loved him
That truck drivin' boy
With the grease monkey look and the rock 'n roll voice
Well I was just thinkin' 'bout him
'Cause I guess he sat here
Singing all praise to God through poverty's tears

And this place don't change
Some places move slow
I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Bromford
I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze
Ghosts of the old south are all around me
Yea swing high, yea swing low
Here on this porch swing in Bromford

And this place don't change
Some places move slow
I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Bromford
I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze
Ghosts of the old south are all around me
Yea swing high, yea swing low
Here on this porch swing in Bromford

And this place don't change
Some places move slow
I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Bromford
I got nothing to do but hang in the breeze
The ghosts of the old south all around me
Yea swing high, yea swing low
On this porch swing in Bromford

Here on this porch swing in Bromford
Here on this porch swing in Bromford

Bromford and Surgeonfish ...

»What is a surgeonfish, dude?« asks the llama.

»I was looking for Dory from Finding Nemo and Finding Dory, you know.«

»And I see you did not find her, dude.«

»Have you fed the fish?« I ask.

»We have to talk about the "I"s in the blue squares, dude.«

»I don't know why the blockblog is doing this. It is doing the same with these bend down-arrows. But no, animal, we do not have to talk about "I"s in blue squares. Let's be this a Monday and go on.«

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Today is Monday, the 11th of March 2024.

Bromford and Cat ...

 

»Good day, young man. What do you do for a living?«

An elderly woman in a black business costume with tied back grey hair is standing at the door of my penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment house on 666, Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside. A big leather sales suitcase is standing next to her.

»How did you get up here?« I am asking. »Is Mario or Luigi our concierge or janitor ill or on vacation?«

Oh, why did I guess a posh building like this had a glorified doorman?« the woman is whispering more to herself.

»Well, young man, a nice animal let me in.«

Her smile is getting brighter.

»Hi, there!«

The llama comes jumping across the gravel of the roof-terrace from the staircase, squeezing by into the penthouse.

»Living«, I say.

»I beg your pardon?« the woman says.

»That's what I do for a living. Living. And stop calling me young man. We all know that you are here to sell something and that I am not a young man anymore.«

The woman is straightening her hairdo before she is bending down to open her suitcase. I can see a bunch of thick hardcover books inside.

»That's nice«, the woman says. »But everybody's has got a hole to fill. Maybe I can interest you in our latest series of the bible encyclopedia? Twelve volumes for the price of thirteen for a start and every three months a new volume. All new with colourful pictures every few pages. Jesus, he knows you, young man, you know? And maybe later this month you can come and visit us in the classrooms of our clubhouse next to the Bromford Cathedrale and we can talk about God.«

»No, thank you«, I say starting to close the door. »I hope you find your way down to the street and out of the house. Have a nice day.«

I return to the living-room.

The llama has fastened the hammock in one corner of the room, again, and is swinging slighty from side to side.

»Well«, the animal is grinning. »What do you do for a living, Bromford Bibble? I think we need to talk about God.«

»Ah, shut up, animal!« I say. »And I am still looking for a new companion, you know.«

»Forget it«, the llama says. »You are not a cats' person and you know it.«

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Today is Sunday, the 10th of March 2024.

    

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 281

Today is Thursday, the 7th of March 2024.

I wrote a newsletter the other day and it was talking about ratatouille and cooking rats.
That's what newsletters are for...

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"Wouldn't Have You Any Other Way (BC)"

I remember it like it was yesterday
Snow in the park and skaters on the ice
Long black cars standing side-by-side
Loading up the boys at night

Turned up our collars to the chill of the wind
Caught an innocent smile from a taxi at the lights
Not something you'd see on a Bromford street
It's such an uncommon sight

But I wouldn't have it any other way
This city's got a thing about it, don't try to understand it
Bromford City I'd really like to stay
Bromford City I wouldn't have you
I wouldn't have you any other way

Oh the subway rumbled underneath
Italian lights where Joey Gallo died
And the man on the door down at 54's
Letting only the pretty inside

I'd wake with a stranger under the covers
Late in the day and longing for the night
Just like the snowfall there's so many bodies
But somehow it feels so right

But I wouldn't have it any other way
This city's got a thing about it, don't try to understand it
Bromford City I'd really like to stay
Bromford City I wouldn't have you
I wouldn't have you any other way