This is a record of the human experience. In purely bureaucratic terms this is nothing more than a written report. It will be handed in upon the completion of several reviews intended for the correction and betterment of grammar, spelling, and meter. Some in the company regard the adorning of such documents with flowery language as a purely feminine pursuit, the taking-up of which is to be advised against amongst our more ambitious reporters. Conversely, there exists an argument that our typical macho newsman finds an outlet for his womanly impulses through the construction of unnecessarily convoluted passages, with further philosophising between meek intellectuals concluding that the scale of their grand towering works reflect proportionately the individual’s need to convince his cohorts of the impossible magnitude of his ahem, todger, or…man-piece.

After all is said and done, in the opinion of this humble clerk, it is perhaps the deadline-chasing roustabout, hard at work in some nearby tavern, who, in spite of himself, and unbelied by his allotted modicum of common genius; it is only his composition that could find its character amongst the drinkers and dafties, and therefore it is he who manages to strike upon the golden phrase most often. Being well aware of the chancer’s reputation, the board members reward him duly with a further measure of lenience.

So, here we are. Another report nears completion: stats, figures and faff. They, all of them, meet a necessary level of competence and quality where the content is concerned, otherwise their authors would be found lagging in a lesser office, wouldn’t they? Of course, every man has his superior, both in office and ability. Tis only the nature of workplace and life matters, pertaining to pecking order, the basic arrangement of levels, responsibilities shouldered, social cues, what have you. Of course this isn’t worth dwelling upon for too long, we have an instinct for such matters. The primary cerebral cortex is to be occupied with the dreaming up of interesting sobriquet’s and clever conundrums, in the traditional half-assed manner, of course. Got to leave the other man a gap or two, would be rude not to.

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I could tell by
His particular movement
Bouncing off the wall
In the golden moment

You can always tell
Him barking away
Very clever guy
And it didn’t matter 

Any longer to me
That he was backed by
A pre-made recording
His energy was insistent

That you look up
Catch him full on
Recognise the spectacle
His potency in motion

That last chorus
Flashing red and white
Strobe madness
Bursting with something

Without warning
A glim popped
Our great performer
Had fled the stage

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Getting older I suppose. Signalled by an increased interest in quaint little games and quizzes. Sharing opinions and favourites with fellow enthusiasts. Renewed perspective through memories weighed with the gardener’s familiarity, trowel and soil, turn it over, sense all relations. The mother becomes the daughter, the sister and the friend. A father’s history under investigation, benign this time, for the better benefit of the beneficiary. To remember, no, to feel, what it meant to be a brother to two, then three; the scrapes you’d brave without hesitation. Some friends pass and this too is good, it is good for them and yet you’ll see it is best for you also. Valuing now the craic with pals once reviled, sure, what is brotherhood? Our antecedents, never heard the end of it coming up, ‘that’s where you got the music from, such and such and so.’ Up you get and see it so clear. It is important to love one’s family, to have pride; a blessed patience to see past those searing flaws. Of course, away they all are on journeys of their own. You can’t make a life of forgiving and loving every sorry sinner who comes along asking. But, do love your family, fiercely and fully. Give your psyche a nice cleanse and mend, enjoy the resultant buzz and glow, God knows, you’ll maybe even end up enhancing yourself somehow; a cool, clean aura is said to sell more neck braces in the possessor’s locale. Please don’t ask me why that is. Ok, piety-time is over, I need a cigarette, and some coffee…