Three poems by John Mayes
The Headford Map
In Galway there’s a little place
They call it Headford Town
To find it you will need to trace
The route from Galway’s crown.
From the station past Eyre Square
Turn right when at the top
Continue on, you’re getting there
Pass Topaz with a shop.
At Joyce roundabout just cross
Then to the left you veer,
Making sure you’re at no loss
For Travelodge is near.
This is situated on your right
But do not take a turning
‘Til Babyworld comes into sight
Turn left, you’re really burning.
As you ascend this country lane
Go straight on to the junction
As this will show you once again
That turning right’s your function.
Through Cloonboo you are bound to go
Continue on before you stop
Then this is what you’ll need to know,
You’re there at Joyce’s corner shop
Oh how I hate to see my head
Without a single hair
Living all my days in dread
By seeing people stare.
It feels so cold in Winter time
And Autumn when they come
With Spring and Summer more sublime
My head is no more numb.
Why did my follicles seem to die?
I’ve rubbed on grease and salt
There’s nothing that I did not try
So now I’ve called a halt.
Bald was I when I was born
And bald I’ll always be
So I should never be forlorn
For what is me is me.
Gobble, gobble, hear my cry
Chased around the yard am I
By traders, all of them in meat
So that is why I’m in retreat.
For many months I’d put on weight
Hoping that I’d get a mate
But all my friends have done the same
Gobble, glum, we’ll lose our name.
Our parents, we heard on the quiet
Went to folk not on a diet
Necks were wrung and feathers plucked
No more gobble, gobble clucked.
It looks like this will be our fate
To end up on somebody’s plate
Frozen, roasted, sliced in portions
Legs unravelled from contortions.
They do not know that I’ve been ill
For weeks I’ve been upon the pill
Infections coming by the score,
They’ll not have turkey anymore.