My trousers are pressed

And I’m standing erect

Each time they pass by, I hold out my monkey

My suit is blue velvet

My shirt is white satin

My hat boasts a medal for bravery at sea

Most times I’m silent,

And then I scream very loudly

I’m just making sure that you know I’m still here

I’m waiting for a train or I’m having my lunch

I’m recruiting for an equestrian, submarine universe

Where everyone views you through a kaleidoscope snail

My shoes sing like saucepans on the Mary Celeste

Tapping out memories of when they looked at their best

Come six o clock, I shuffle away sideways

Leaving two humid footprints where I stood most the day

The pigeons breed nightmares

For a million eyes weeping

Below a statue of Jesus,

And tucked away in the darkness -

An old wooden goat

We’re all good little people

Singing like cherubs

To an empty performance

And the sun’s going down


In the lurid blue light of a lonely apartment

My mother sings christmas

And gets back in her box

©2017 Barry Cox/Flying Man Productions. All Rights Reserved.


‘Standing For Jesus’                      illustration by Barry Cox