SAINT THOMAS, VERSES 121 – 134
Mark Traill
17 May 2008, 08:57Institute of Advanced Studies
Formerly the Viceroy Lodge
I gasp and puff but the air is thinner
Than me, I’ve got to stop
•
Monkeys rummage for garbage in bins
Whispering secrets to all of their kin
Turning my neck 380 degrees
Discover a man who looks Nepalese
“Found you!!!” he nods lighting Gold Flake
“Manali” he winks “I have rupees to make!”
I pay for the charas and leave with a skip
A jump and a hop and a dance and a jig
I’m back at my desk I light up and whist
Monkeys of Shimla
Hanuman’s fist
Gentle stroll, genteel walk
Up the trail where monkeys talk
Tourists chatter mirth abound
Enter temple, on the ground
Baba sits with one eye open
Am I mad? I’m just hoping
Hallucination, bad vibration
Now’s the time to think prescription
Doctor can you lock me in
A man is stalking full of sin
He’s out to get me, got a plan
Grimmer than the reaper man
“…..eeeyyyy, that you Thomas!
Saw you the other day!
You got friendly with that yank!
And now she thinks your gay!
Saw you through the window
You didn’t have a clue
Do run home now little boy
This trip just isn’t you….”
“Liar, deceiver
Obsessive conceiver
Perverted, and thieving
Believing that stealing
My trip is appealing….”
“…should have done her good and proper
Don’t worry now I did it for ya!
Because of you she’s now with me
Never gonna set her free…”
“I’m leaving now Baba
We’ll meet up soon
Is old Baba ready now
To pursue me to the moon?”
“….nice coincidence, for I’m leaving too
I’m off to Manili to smoke charas with Jews
Then after that trip I head for Dharamsala
Repent all me sins and absolve all me Karma…”
“You cannot go! No! It is my epiphany
It was my vision; my chance of recovery
Becoming who I am not what I’m becoming
And instead I’ve got you and all of your cunning
Don’t follow me now, I’m rebuilding my faith
I’m sick of ‘coincidence’, I’m tired of this game
I can’t stand to see your face all the time
I’d rather be in prison; I’d rather die”
“Shut up Tommy! Little Shit!
Sanctimonious tart!
Bloody hypocrite!
Listen Tommy, pious bore!
You’re no Saint!
You’re a slag!
You’re a whore!”
Running down slope from Hanuman temple
Baba is laughing and I’m going mental
The hills turning purple the colours are wrong
Their eyes are widening, tracing my run
To bolt up and chase Thomas from site
As tourists take pictures of monkeys in flight
This is a chase
And this is for real
The monkeys are running
And I am their meal
Playing games
Of hide and seek
In derelict tenants
I feel like a freak
Furtively move
The monkeys are close
To eat off my hands
To make me a ghost
Room to room
With no idea
And then a stumble
And everything’s clear
This derelict tenant
Has a room just for me
Small chapel with cross
Where monkeys can’t see
I’m feeling much better
No closer to home
But at least here’s a sign
That points me to Rome
Changing train at Galka
A journey to the ground
I reminisce of happiness
As we amble through the town
Metal trains freight souls
On tracks of larger width
The sojourn is uncomfortable
At least the seats are big
I sit upon my bed and
Ignoring all the natives
Refill my chillum in the toilet
Still look emaciated
Reach Delhi at six thirty
The air is warm, unclear
I ride an auto, haul my bags
A room that’s good and near
Another room already forgotten
Old Delhi streets, gloriously rotten
Reading the papers, mainly of sport
Distracted by headlines of this report;
A killer is loose, called ‘Monkey Man’
He’s rampaging his way through all Hindustan
Tales in the press; Monkey Man claims more
Not going to stop with victim number 4
Journalists sweating of formless shapes
Blame Pakistan; they’re easy to hate
Just another snake in the pool of our lives
Counting baksheesh and raping our wives
Carcass discovered, nail in his skull
The victim was poor; the victim was old
He lived in a station most of his life
Left no one behind, not even a wife
Perspective discovered when unprepared
Tommy blessed god to show that he cared
Paid for 2 nights
(26 hour stay)
One way flight
Delhi-Bombay
Two months remain
‘Til they stamp on my visa
Then stamp on my head
When England is closer
