Monday, 3 September 2007

I always keep the receipt when buying wedding presents these days..

Actually my colleague's wedding on Saturday was far too charming and sincere to dare give him a copy of this poem, and disappointingly, no sleazy DJ with bad PA system for added entertainment value either! (isn't cynicism a terrible thing?)

Wedding DJ

Weddings are easy – the same hoary old hits
With a special thrown in for the bride and groom
Sound system clanging on an overloaded bass
A few random flashes from the coloured light box
Children are our future Whitney crescendos
A bit of 60’s for the parents –
Some cheese from Tom Jones
Abba, if you’re lucky.
He hardly ever opens his CD case
For his three hundred quid
Just lugs his equipment
To this naff hotel and that
Sets it up, announces first dance as man and wife
And sits it out with a ciggy
And a six pack,
Pre-empting no one will buy him a drink
Decides whether he would give the bride one
(and 11 brides ago he did),
Or whether to dread her thank you kiss.
Bets with himself how long it’ll last
As he watches them cuddledance, cameras flashing,
She, trying not to fall over her ivory silk train.
(it’s all ivory silk these days).
A ropey fade-out and in, to the next track
When it becomes a hesitant free for all
Adults shyly taking the floor
Uninhibited children throwing themselves
Tumbling and squealing in princess outfits
An elegant dame swaying in lilac palazzo pantsuit
And her attentive husband, represent the older happy.
Then there’s the couple who can dance really well
Far too well for Stevie Wonder.
And all the bad dancers
The impossible wobbles squeezed into impossible sheaths.
He still likes to watch though,
Remembering how once it swept him away
The sheer happiness, despite the bad food and his music
The effort, the optimism, the children’s buzzing
How bliss could exist even in a Travel Lodge
With contract carpets
No matter, the obligatory vomit, drunken guest, bit of a scene
But now he’s aware of more disturbing impulses
When he goes home and toys with his Joy Division CDs
To play or not to play…

© LS King 2003


Steve said...

Loved "the obligatory vomit" - I think it should be written into the wedding ceremony itself or dropped into the speeches afterwards... somewhere between the father of the bride's and the Best Man's... everybody raise your guts to the bride and groom!

Sorry. That sounds really cynical and I've no reason to be when Karen and I had a really lovely wedding.

"An elegant dame swaying in lilac palazzo pantsuit"... for some reason that line made me shudder; it made me think of an elderly aunt of mine who used to outline her lips in thick, deep red lipstick. One kiss on the cheek and you looked like a half made-up clown...

Dr. Deb said...

Great prose!!!

The Poet Laura-eate said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
The Poet Laura-eate said...

deleted owing to spelling mistake!

But have since decided it wasn't worth the pedantry of pointing out Wedding DJ was supposed to be a poem!

Cheers anyway Dr Deb. Enjoyed your blog too.

Anonymous said...

There's also GOT to be some "Grandad dancing" which you do by pretending you're a suffocating actor in a Godzilla suit wreaking havoc on a toy Tokyo.
To a heavy metal track. Preferably by Tony Bennett. Little niece to dance with optional.
Oh yes and don't forget to bag yourself a spinster bridesmaid. With calorie issues.
Big Al