Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Tuesday Poem: At the Four-headed Dog. H. Molloy

At The Four-headed Dog

The familiar Friday night escapade
taxi windows fog as you cross the water
to The Four-headed Dog.

Once in you queue
for the refurbished Victorian loos
wash cracked palms in a porcelain sink

in a stall by the white-tiled wall
a comrade throws up like back
in the days when music on Fridays mattered

like back in the days
when you made your own badges
you clank the blue striped flannel towel

catch a profile in the mirror
framed with twisted golden vines
head for the bottle stacked bar

not even the promise of an aged single malt
prepares you for the shock
as you cross the lounge floor

you and all your friends share the same face.

This poem is from my work in progress 'Moth eats word.' It was first published in Enamel 2.  I wonder about the title. In some versions I have 'At the Three-headed Dog'; this would make more sense as it would more clearly refer to Cerberus.  'The Four-headed Dog' reminds me of Gene Wolfe's wonderful 'The Fifth Head of Cerberus.'  So why 'The Four-headed Dog'? I guess because that's the right title and this poem follows an irrational dream logic.  

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Helen Lowe said...

I enjoyed it, Harvey--& got the cho to both cerberus & Gene Wolfe. (Go me!) ;-)

AJ Ponder said...

Cool poem. Very surreal.

Oh dear, I'm a robot. Again. But I did want to say how much I enjoyed the poem so cross fingers....

Michelle Elvy said...

I like the detail and movement in this piece - a view to the past and the shock of the now.

Harvey Molloy said...
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