Wednesday, 14 April 2021

Andy Fierens: 'no panic on the titanic'

 

no panic on the titanic, andy to the rescue 

 

unable to sleep i think of my heroes:

 

andy warhol

andy kaufman

mahatma andy

 

not all andies are successful

 

i know of one who only

can sniff women’s panties

if he buys a pair

himself

              and another one

who keeps his only kiss

in an empty coca-cola bottle

 

optimism is to be terminally ill

and stop smoking even so

(i’m no optimist)

 

if i hear a dog whining in the distance

i want to go into the garden

to spade through

four hectares

of unprocessed past

              but i haven’t got a garden

so mostly i lie indoors on the sofa

happy

that i find support

in commandments that vary every day:

 

              thou shalt not cheer up another man’s wife

              thou shalt not force anyone naked

                             to go down a slide

                             covered with sandpaper

 

my name is andy

statistically speaking i’m OK

 

anxiety governs my life

i didn’t dare for example say to my child

that my father had died

so i sent

a singing telegram

to the school

sometimes it gets so stifling

that i cry out for help –

not a single andy answers

 

do you know the one about the andy

with a near-death erection?

              do you know the one about the andy

                             who deceived his wife

                             with two swedish brothers

                             lars and extra-lars?

do you know the one about the socially isolated andy

with his premium gas-gob?

              do you know the one about the andy

              with his bleached purple?

do you know the one about the andy

who kisses a frog

until he feels sick?

 

                                           the frog, i mean

 

my world

is delimited

by certainties:

 

when i sit in a plane

there is always music with

buddy holly, john denver or richie valens

on the loudspeakers

              when i walk around

              with ten euros in my pocket

              i know that on that day

              i’ll buy no friendship

love is a verb of action

and action is not my strong point

 

did you know by the way that andys

 

live in all time zones

and usually remain unmoved

when informed of continental drift?

              that we do not know for certain

                             whether there were andy’s

                             among the aztecs or the goths

                             or among the extinct peoples

                             of papua new guinea?

that there is no secret society

of andies that propagates

a new world order?

              that even the bravest of andys

                             cannot channel his urges

                             in a room full of naked chained women?

 

– there are no certainties, except that

conventions for stutterers expire

 

i did not challenge my fate

although it buried me

beneath ten tons of high-grade debris

 

when as a child

i saw mother steal into bed with robin hood

while father went out to work

i decided never to give

anything to the poor again

              a rule i once deviated from

              when i lent jesus a thousand euros

 

                             which he never returned

 

indeed, the lord exists

i fell for him

when he broke the ice

with corny jokes

              such as

never use a sausage as a dildo

                             especially garlic sausage

                             don’t teach me any:

 

andies inspired by mondriaan

              unscrupulous andys

              who eat crumbs scattered by hansel and gretel

andies in the lap of widows

in houses where longing

drips from the walls

              andies who after the umpteenth let-down

                             no longer talk about a woman

                             but of texas chainsaw mascara

 

do you know the one about the andy

whose heart was perforated

by uncooked pasta?

              do you know the one about the andy

                             who excels in pseudo-sex?

do you know the one about the progressive andy

who spells mongol with an -E on the end

              do you know the one about the andy

              who complains about the bones in his whale steak?

 

look:

 

when someone shaves it makes him more attractive

when i shave all I’ve got is a hairless lip

 

 

listen:

              optimism is a virgin 

              who on her deathbed reads a book

              with sex tips

(i’m not a virgin)

(i haven’t read any books for a long time) 

 

know:

              there are two sorts of people

              but i don’t know them

 

                what can i do?

                              in front of and behind me

                             to the left and right of me 

as far as the eye can see

               the lamentation 

              of legions of the hopeless 

 

i’m going to sea 

 

i’m going to sea

and will write my name a hundred times

in the water with a stick

 

and i know

somewhere

 

              there is someone

              who can make me happy

 

as long as

i have a face

              she has a place

 

              where she can sit

 

 

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