Felix and Joe
Went to visit a friend,
A man called Jerome
Who was still on the mend
After a jump from
The roof of his shed.
To try to get rid of
'The Lady in Red'
From his mind's radio.
The DJ up there
Kept playing it under
The roof of his hair.
They stayed for an hour.
Gone were the moans.
The DJ was playing
The Beatles and Stones.
They made their way home
Down quiet country lanes.
And whistled the tunes
Being played in their brains.
Clouds filled the sky
And night was encroaching.
Out of the darkness
A man was approaching.
This menacing sight
Brought a halt their feet,
In fear that O'Leary
And they would soon meet.
They owed him some money,
And anyone sane
Would have paid, or delayed
If they wanted to drain
The blood from their bodies
Through small bullet holes,
And gain a few bullets,
New pet metal moles.
But Felix and Joe
Had decided against
Paying the money
Or being past-tensed
By a man who'd act,
Without thinking twice,
On his brain's unanimous
'Shoot them' advice.
Their plan was to hide
From O'Leary until
He's sent to the past
Via Death's fearsome chill,
And maybe hell's grill.
Then they'll be free.
They'll live with a laugh
When he ceases to be.
So when they saw someone
Ahead on the road,
They stopped to consider
How well does it bode.
The sight of the shotgun
Is what made them run.
They knew who it was
At the sound of the gun.
The chase went on for
Two days and a half.
Fear and O'Leary's
Maniacal laugh
Is what drove them on
Through a natural maze,
Chased by a man
In the grip of a craze.
Felix and Joe sought
The shelter of trees.
The safety of forestry
Put them at ease.
There in the darkest
Of all neighbourhoods
They came to a house
In the depths of the woods,
Where a party was falling,
Down it was going.
Drink, blood and tears
Were constantly flowing.
No one was there for
Some tea and a chat.
A man had the head of
A wolf as a hat,
And a look in his eye
That could leave a man dead
With a leak in his back
Or a crack in his head
And a lock on his talk
Till he gets to the gates,
The white ones where Peter
Decides people's fates.
The revellers there
Were all going to hell.
Their moral well-being
Was staying unwell.
A truth that both Felix
And Joe could perceive.
They joined in the revellery
Rather than leave.
Two flailing legs
Rose out of a bin.
A man had a bright red
Balloon and a pin.
He stuck the pin into
The side of his head.
It seemed to make sense
That what flowed out was red.
But he looked confused
As he thought about how
Instead of a burst
The balloon had said 'ow'.
The floor was a carpet
Of splinters and glass.
The carpet was out in
The back on the grass.
A woman was dancing
With someone on fire.
He had to sit down when
He started to tire.
The band were hand-picked
By a panel of judges
Infected by evil;
They bore the world grudges,
But not quite as evil
As those TV shows
Where judges choose music
To torture their foes.
This band were playing
Some old Irish songs.
No one would handle
Their clothes without tongs.
The fire in their eyes
Brought fear to their glare.
Something was living
In their singer's hair,
Which partially balanced
The strong sense of death.
They reeked of decay.
Their insides were wet
With the moonshine contained
In an old metal bath.
The smell of the drink
Had just poisoned a cat.
Felix and Joe
Had to sit down to rest
Before they fulfilled
The role of a guest.
They drank and they fought,
Despite feeling weary,
Until the front window
Displayed an O'Leary.
They left through the back
And they ran through the trees,
In fear that they'd soon have
More holes than Swiss cheese.
Through branches above
They could see points of light.
The stars made them feel
All alone in their plight.
The pin points of light
Were all so far away.
Hope seemed as distant
As brightness of day.
But then a faint light
Seemed to flicker ahead.
A faint spark of life
In a night that seemed dead.
They ran to the flame
Till they came to a clearing.
They saw a small fire
That left them both fearing
They'd stepped from the frying pan
Into the fire,
Sailing down straits
That appeared to be dire.
The wolf man they'd seen
At the party before
Was there at the fire
Like a guard at hell's door.
The eyes of the wolf
Were lit up by the flame.
Joe had to ask
If the wolf had a name.
"We're both known as Conrad,"
He said in a voice
From lungs with enough
Attic space to house mice.
"I killed him myself
In the stark German hills,
When I travelled there
For the action and thrills
"Of the European Championship
In eighty-eight,
Supporting our soccer team,
Cursing their fate
"When a late lucky goal
By Wim Kieft put them out.
Those great glory days
Have dried up in a drought."
O'Leary arrived
And he surveyed the scene.
The state of his clothes made
Him look fierce and mean.
The look on his face
Made the future seem grim.
The man with the wolf
On his head said to him,
"Look in my eyes,
Or else leave this place.
Choosing the latter
Will trigger a chase
"Where you'll be the prey
And we'll all place a bet.
You'll pray to your God
For a natural Death."
O'Leary looked into
The eyes of the man,
And saw the lost son
Of a curious clan.
He looked at the eyes
Of the wolf on his head.
And smiled and backed away
Slowly and fled.
The eyes of the wolf
Looked exactly like those
Of the man underneath
In the wolf's fearsome clothes.
Felix and Joe and
The wolf man returned
To the house in the woods
Where festivities burned
For another few days
While debauchery lorded.
They drank to erase
What their senses recorded.
Felix and Joe met
O'Leary next week,
Right after mass.
He struggled to speak.
But people were looking.
They listened to him.
In terror he thought
He'd look cowardly and dim.
"Give me my money,"
He said with a tremor.
Onlookers wondered
Was this really him or
A long lost twin brother
Afraid of the world,
Hidden away,
Only rarely unfurled.
Felix and Joe
Entered sympathy mode.
In pity they paid
The five euros they owed.
