New Extract From The Blocks by Karl Parkinson(Text n Audio)


Typical block uv dat time


Saturday night in Fatima, in de blocks, Shane Mac Gowans voice fills de room

N a rovin, a rovin, a rovin, I/ll go for a pair uv brown eyes,

for a pair uv brown eyes.


I pour a tall glass uv Blossom Hill White Zinfandel, hock n spit a demon inte de bin. I raise me glass high inte de air n say

Te me brothers who have fallen.

I Kiss de glass n take a swig uv de sweet wine.

Now Shane sings

I met me love by de gasworks wall, dreamed a dream by de old canal.

Out on de balcony I look up at Dublins cloudless, indigo, summer night sky. Three tracksuited, airmacked youngfellas walk by underneath, throwin shapes n hollerin, across de road arm-linked lovers stroll, here comes a Dominos Pizza delevery man, n two Garda walkin de beat lookin for sumone te nick.


N de band played Waltzin Matilda.


I pour me second glass uv wine, raise me glass n drink te Dublin,

Dublin yer a wimpperin bitch, yer a made-up whore, yer a dirty swine, yer a mountain flower, yer a fake diamond, ahh Dublin yer me wild love.

De music has changed now: De Righteous Brothers, Youve lost dat lovin feelin

Marvin Gaye, I heard it tru de grapevine. I let me voice free n sing, no concern for neighbours, its Saturday night, let me sing, let dem sing, let everyone sing, tru music we fall in love wit ourselves. I top up me glass, n empty de bottle, I raise it te meself dis time, as Satchmo sings,

N I think te myself wot a wonderful world.

I read aloud Allen Ginsbergs Howl, selections from Lorcas Poet In New York n Rimbauds A Season in Hell.

Ders a party on de way, Tara is comin home wit a gang in taxis from pubs n clubs. Ah! Let de celebration begin…

Here dey er: Tara, Linda, Philo, Catty, Andy, Rose, Jacinta, Yonkers, Tazzer, Paddy n Brenda, Dey brin crates off alcohol, Miller n Bulmers, bottles uv Smirnoff Vodka n a oner bag uv coke.

Hugs n handshakes, we dance te Prince n Amy Winehouse, sing Dirty Old Town, talk n talk n talk about kids, relationships, drugs, poetry, football, fights, money, all kinds uv drug bullshit, everyone tryin te outdo de last story. Bulgin eyes, red faces, roarin laughs, wolf smiles, glass smashin, Tara moppin up spills, joints, smokes, backslaps, knee rubs, bangin tunes, Shane McGowan, Amy Winehouse, grindin teeth, headlock love, sweaty handshakes, sly snorts, gum rubs, drinkin de wrong can, burnin shots, violent thoughts, sexual thoughts, spliffs shared, bullshit brains, Taxi home, n Tara n me er last up, everyones gone, its wer still drinkin, sharin de last bottles off beer, de sun is rayin in tru de blinds n me hand reaches for de inside uv her thigh, Tara yer soft wettin thigh, here we ar still throwin love inte de mix uv chemicals, dust n music. Music like a slow piano tune played in a dream, music in a dream I had.

I wuz now truly experienced by me time in de blocks. De mornin wuz a war in me eyes.