By: Delbor Greebies
God was like a father to Son and Ghost and he was the one who came up with the schemes and took care of them when they fucked up. He had a palatial squat in Northern London, contacts and influence in Looting and a daughter to die for.
Son would do anything for God. He’d adopted Son from a woman who had been raped and didn’t want to keep the baby. Son was a sickly kid. He did all sorts of drugs and got into all the New Age shit. But he was such a sweet kid, generally. It’s true that when he threw a tantrum he could get into one hell of a rage, though. We thought he was prolly schizo. But he would’ve laid down his life for God – but not his daughter. Literally.
Ghost did stuff. Got stuff done. Even in prison for rape. Ghost met God the Chaplain, told him his life story: lynched grandfathers, raped white women, beatings, doing stuff, getting stuff done. When he got out they hooked up together and Ghost just comes and goes. By the way, he has the hots for God’s daughter.
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God, Son and Ghost. Bonding
They went out riding in the desert
Ghost was leading the race
Son was feeling sick
God had had enough
They were eating rice in a restaurant
God passed the ketchup to Ghost
Ghost ordered fish and chips
Son started retching
They played darts, billiards and dominoes
Ghost dealt the hand
God ducked pocketing a double eighteen
Son phoned Air France for a doggy bag
They banded and bonded and picnicked
God fished for water flesh
Ghost evaporated
Son was having visions
They tried to join a photography club
Ghost negatived out, as always
God freaked out in the dark room
Son became polaroid.
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God, Son and Ghost. The Plan
God had this plan involving creating chaos
Son said he’d go along
Ghost might turn up
God handed Son the notes
Son forgot his reading glasses
Ghost turned up drunk
The scheme involved pretension, lies and heartbreak
Son needed a girlfriend badly
Ghost mostly masturbated
God spoke:
You to the back
You over there
I’ll do the rest
Son scattered
Ghost had an allergy
They met at the meeting point
Ghost was armed
Son thought he was
God had regrets
It didn’t quite work out that night
They are still good friends
Son sucks his thumb
Ghost’s set up as a dentist.
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God, Son and Ghost. God’s extension
Twas a late autumn eve in the city
The All and the Everything were just, almost exactly
Where they should be…
God wanted to knock down a wall to extend his squat
Gave Ghost five quid
Ghost gave God a quote
Son overheard and remembered
“Suffer little camels to come to me through the eye of a needle.”
Son’s memory was fucked.
God provided tools and plaster
Ghost screwed a while, got plastered
Son wore rubber boots and a hard hat
When the fridge broke down
God called down for a picnic hamper
Ghost requested Victorian chamber maids
To serve their tea and scones and
Son mimed A broken Down Fridge
Ghost guessed… A Drunken Lion Tamer
God… The Big Bang
At the Extension Party
God announced his ownership of the building
His love for Son and Ghost
Son got an erection
Ghost was on the brink of bonking
God’s beautiful daughter
Twas a late autumn eve in the city
The all and the everything were just, almost exactly
Where they should be…
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We here at Subversify are happy to welcome Delbor Greebies who has entertained some of us for some time. We especially enjoy that his artistic ramblings seem to get under the skin of all types of people both those you would expect and those you would not; we are told he even raised the ire of a nice Dutch woman!
Scandalous!
More about Delbor Greebies:
He’s an English language facilitator working with professional French people who need to communicate with the rest of the world in order to make a living. If only they were all as talented at communication as Marcel Marceau… (He teaches English to French adults.)
He has an American wife.
He doesn’t usually speak about himself in the third person; this is an exercise in style.
He is but a lost soul wandering through the corridors of literary excellence in need of love and the occasional hug. But, being a Brit, he much prefers having the piss taken out of him. But not too much. And not too soon.
Time for a nice cup of tea.
Renee Garcia Brown
Del:
Helluva tale (pardon the pun); reads a lot like something from one of my favorite sci-fi authors, Philip K. Dick.
Keep writing, friend!
–Will (“Astra”)
Your free flow reminds me much of e.e. cummings, who i really enjoyed as a cubist poet. Thoroughly modernized with linguistic color, it sort of skims the top off pop culture and presents it in its replicable form. I believe you asked the question at your blog, “how would you feel if the names used had been different”? They were only names, after all, sketching a trio of personalities, intricately tied together, representing what is with no apologies. The playfulness of the narration was delightful. I hope to read much more of your work.
A thought provoking family here. I thank you.
Didn’t know I was Ghost. Must try a few miracles.
Nicely written document that will preferably get a certain amount of impact within the Planet of health and safety. Incredibly well completed and preferably it may have a very good influence.
I must say… I really did enjoy re-reading this!
Thank you Delbor and Subversify.
By the way… your illustrations are, well, perfect.
Thank you to whoever managed to find this one of the trio.
DG