mudfishblog
MUDFISH
A fish that writes stories. Comedy, philosophy and a bit of kindness
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The Orange
by Wendy Cope
At lunchtime I bought a huge orange
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I had a half.
And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park
This is peace and contentment. It’s new.
The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all my jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I’m glad I exist.
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Couchsurfing for 7 months is tiring
I’m so close to home
On my sofa
Living on a £10-a-day wage
Like I'm supposed ta.
Popping in and out of houses
like a toaster
Feeling the heat
Like a tea coaster
Poster child of
generation rent.
Got no money for that
After travel is spent
Trying to forge a career
in something I believe in.
Beware of your dream as sometimes they’re deceiving
See when
You go after your passion
Without any money
You’ve got nothing to tie you over
A bee with no honey
And you ask your boss for a living wage
But they boot you away, as other youngsters say:
“I don’t care if I’m paid.”
And accountants switch careers to do something more meaningful
with a bank of savings that they can keep living off
And I go the other way
Change my dream, hopeless.
It’s hard to change the world
When you’re effectively homeless.
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Internal Narrative (or YOU HEFFER)
When you can’t afford new clothes too often, you forget to look in the mirror.
But I was in a set of toilets, waiting when I caught a glimpse of my reflection.
My internal monologue said,
“You look like a heffer.”
There was a silence.
All my other narratives were shocked at how mean I was.
When was the last time I even heard the word ‘heffer.’
I look it up online.
It’s spelt “h-e-i-f-e-r,” not heffer.
My inner critic can’t even spell right.
It’s a cow that has at least one calf.
Wow.
And I thought about that time I did a stand-up course and the man teaching it said I had the top and bottom of a young woman and the body of a middle-aged mother of three.
My inner critic was better at metaphors than him.
I looked away from the mirror
Still recoiling from shock.
My nicer inner narratives comparing my critic to an irrational twitter troll.
I love cows, especially when they have a baby.
And that’s what boobs are really for, ay? Milk.
I walk away from the mirror.
Not looking forward to the next time, I see one.
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Lunchtime
You eat like
Chinese water torture.
Emitting the sound
of Hannibal Lecturn
Nwip nwip nwip
Kill me now
I say
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Maternal Instinct
Sometimes I lie on the sofa, imagining my unborn child sleeping across my body, peaceful.
My girlfriends say,
“Never tell that to your boyfriend.”
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Martin Never Wanted a Dog
Martin never wanted a dog, but he had one after a 6-year campaign by his daughter. Of course, she left the nest and now him and Tubs, the labrador, were tied together.
And Martin arranged kennels for stupid, smelly Tubs. He wasn’t a bright dog but he liked to be in the same room as the family and he loved leftover dinners. Martin found a kennel and they plodded up to cages near the front door of the main house.
From inside they heard the owners.
“You fucking bastard, you told me-”
SMASH - a plate was flung against a wall.
Little Tubs looked up at his pack Dad, Martin, with pleading eyes.
Martin looked back down. Two species united through non-verbal understanding.
“Come Tubs.” Said Martin. “You’re not staying here.”
Martin found a nice farmer who took Tubs in for a fortnight. All were happy with the arrangement.
No love is purer than between than that between a grumpy Dad and the pet they said they didn’t want.
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Dental dominatrix
My hygienist is like a dental dominatrix.
“Have you been flossing?”
No.
Smack.
“Well you should.”
She buries string in between my teeth.
They bleed.
“If they bleed it means you’re not flossing right.”
And she strips my dentine naked of plaque.
I see them, feel them, bare of waste covering.
She’s pleased with herself.
I know their new state
is right.
That’ll be £140.
I feel truly dominated now.
Here you go, I say.
See you again in 6 months.
Fear and satisfaction return to the horizon.
“Yes”
I say.
Through my sparkly teeth
And red gums.
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Womanhood
They’ve lost my coil
up in my body
So I need a
“Gynaecological pelvic and
transvaginal ultrasound.”
My poor brother opened the letter at my old flat
He’ll be disturbed reading that
for a few years now.
A close friend said
“Mmmm sounds sexy.”
Contraception is really annoying.
But I suppose less annoying
than the alternative.
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Beyonce
Beyonce is the most beautiful woman in the world
She can sing whilst running 12 miles an hour on a treadmill,
in stilettos.
She can pull off many runway looks on a size 12 dress size.
Beyonce can shake her booty whilst keeping all other parts of her body still.
This is really hard to do.
Beyonce has really cool Instagram posts that go:
front, back, front, back
then it zooms
lips, shoes, purse, earrings
She’s collaborated with the Louvre.
When I see a Beyonce music video – I can’t believe I’m the same gender as her.
I’m so proud.
There are other great female figures in history
but Beyonce will always be
Mother Earth.
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Nothing comes to you on a plate
Nothing comes to you on a plate
He told me.
“Yeh,” I said.
Like Bankers bonuses
Like MP’s expense claims
Like a parent sending you to public school
Like a billion pound Hilton Hotel empire
Like being the son of God
Like having parents who own property in London
I’m all for working your arse off.
As long as we can admit
food related metaphors
have got nothing to do with
“success.”
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Freelance Invoice
“Hi Dan,
Find attached my invoice for this month.
Many thanks,
Phil”
One week
Two week
Three week
Four, Five week, Six week.
“Dan, any update on the payment,” it should be processed by now
QUESTION MARK
Dan:
“Ah, due to the volume of invoices it’s going to be paid next month.”
Dear Dan,
Sweet, sweet Dan.
How can I pay my rent with your “next month.”
How can I pay for my tampons, my water, my electricity?
How would you like to be just a normal player in this freelancer game of monopoly
When your £80 day rate is paid on whatever month the banker feels like
I am grateful you’re paying me the living wage
Let’s celebrate your company
But know when you late pay someone,
Especially on 21k a year,
you are watching a slug whilst they battle with a mountain of salt poured on their body.
You are placing blocks of wood on the floor and stubbing thousands of toes.
Accountant Dan, accountant Dan.
How many ways can I compare you to the Victorian factory managers that exploited the poor for the sake of their books.
Four months later I’m paid my grand.
I’m still thinking, how can Dan, the man, pay on time
without tarnishing my relationship with his company?
Ideas welcome.
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Generation rent
You know your flat’s cold
when you put on the oven
to make up for the lack
of radiators.
Full whack.
Open the front door
Gets you toastie warm
Only works when flatmates are out.
They won’t like the gas bill
I don’t like pneumonia.
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Caged bird
My eyes move like a chicken.
I’m at a party
Strutting my stuff
Birthday girl is drunk sitting on everyone’s lap
I peck at the ground hoping not to be noticed
Cluck cluck cluck
I want to be back in my nest made of twigs and downy feathers
Ah to rest
But nope, I’m here
Kakawwwrrr
My mate looks at me up and down, he’s a hawk.
“You look tired.”
I move my eyes left and right not answering his question, for fear of being rude.
Kakawwwrrrr
Girls in the pub wear see-through tops, masking tape covering their nipples, their claws skittering on the pub floor.
“Let’s fly,” I say to my mate.
“Taxi?”
“No... our wings.”
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I come from
“Phil come here.
Look there that one.
You see that window?
That’s where your father and I conceived you.”
“MUUUUUUUUUUM.”
“Marcia she doesn’t want to hear that.”
“AHHHHHHHHHH.”
“But it’s beautiful.
“Marcia enough of that.”
It was a nice old French townhouse on the north coast.
“EUGHHHHH.”
And my Dad, Rob, scolded Mum like a child.
Which was funny as usually it was the other way around.
And my parents waddled off in front of me
saying little nothings,
getting over the shock.
And I thought
you know
It’s not a bad place to come from.
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Instagram post
Her hand was raised
to cast beautiful shadows
on her face.
I hope he’ll like this shot on Instagram
she thinks.
And she wears very few clothes
And people love it
Men
Women
Some children
What an inspiration.
She returns to her
work in the cafe
Dreaming
of the next post.
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Spring
Blue sky
Against the chimneys
You look alright
Reminding my eyes
It’ll be summer soon
And the light will shine
Beyond 5 O’Clock
Which means I can be outside
And watch dogs in the park
‘till 10 at night
Whilst I run my
couch to 5k fitness programme
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Screwballed on the 355
I was getting the 355 bus back to West Norbury when she sat next to me.
I’d had a bad day at work – none of my projects were going well and I felt useless.
Then this 85 year-old lady began her tirade from the adjacent seat:
“Look at you.
You’re disgusting.
You’re a disgrace.”
I said “Hello” to her with my eyes, then turn my iPhone louder.
“You are everything that’s wrong with this country.”
Other people on the bus began to look at us.
I really had no idea what I’d done to set off this woman.
I wish I could say she was my Grandmother so there’s a funny unexpected twist to this story. But she’s not.
“Fuck you, you fucking waste of space.” She continued.
Tzsssssss.
The bus arrives at my stop.
I got up – the old woman gave way to me without stopping her barrage of insults.
“Never do I want to see your-”
Off she floated on the 355.
No one batted much of an eyelid to her ranting.
I looked into the window of a Sainsbury’s Local to see if I was wearing an offensive t-shirt.
Nope.
Oh well.
Guess she’s just another person
screwballed by this city.
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