LIONS-MANE NEW-WAVE

 

A new wave of memory came over

Me one I hadn’t thought of in years.

The year was nineteen eighty-one

Living in a bedsit In Dublin, Howth

Road N.M.E. SOUNDS were my life.

 

Was never interested in I.R.A. U.D.A.

Johnny Rotten said ‘I thought it was

the U.K.’ I Was never an out and out

punk more new wave.

 

I’m taking lions mane for memory

Not a magic mushroom compound

But it seems to do the trick, magic.

I scoured the charity shops for old

50’s suit and silk lapel dinner jackets

Hand-made winkle picker shoes.

 

I looked like an undertaker, I was my

Own frontman in a high rim trilby hat.

One night a biker stole it at the urinal.

I pissed in a glass gave the glass to him

Glugged it back threw up, I took my hat

Disappeared in the crowd left him in 

the bog kicking himself. This memory 

came out of the blue as a matter of fact.