Marty Bogroll

Marty Bogroll

How the teenagers
laugh at you
school kids point from buses
mockingly
On a racer,
sitting by the canon
Motionless
Forever homeless
Outside town hall
Wrapped up in blue
The Yew tree is swaying
Your ginger beard bristling
In Lonesome Town
Ageing, dreaming
Small-town acquiescing
4 O’ clock wet October
and I’m not sober
every street of Lonesome Town
Holds a memory
The Birthplace Healing
I was Indian Jones on this road
Eddie Murphy on that one,
Wynton marsalis over there
I was myself on that one
Bill Hicks on that avenue
I kissed a girl on that bench
I got chased down that street by some guy with a knife
I fell in love with the World on these streets
And that’s why I’ll never stop loving it
A miscrocosm of Earth
And there he is
A town legend, holder of dreams
Marty Bogroll
Lost in existential bliss

My love is gone
And all my friends, where are my friends?
Popping out babies...
Where did they all go?
You’re the only person on this Earth
I want to know.
I buy you a Friar Tucks chicken burger
Your laughter
Is a young boys laughter
I get a chicken burger too
on the banks of the Clanrye
Intoxicated
by the happiness of junk food
the innocent pleasure of the ignorant
“Why do they call you Marty Bogroll?”
“I don’t know
You can call me Martin though.”
His blue eyes yell
For all the lost lovers
I cannot dwell
on sad irises
Your life has been completely different
To millions
You are the ginger Santa Claus
I become fixated
On a shopping trolley in the river
I feel like jumping in
Like a dog
For a wee swim
Martin says, “Thank you
For that Mojo.
It was lovely.”
Dinner with Martin is a tender thing
A laugh
And he’s gone
Off on his racer
No longer a caricature
Newly fragile
Just like us all
And I’m left alone again
in Lonesome Town
Ready to run away


MOJO