Lagan Purdy

Torture Museum Now for the torture museum, A dungeon of devices designed to get you screaming, Reeling in terror at the prospect of what metal can actually do to a human and the gruesome ways they used it We did the usual and got our audio guide set up before looking inside, A smile quickly turned into a giggle then into a laugh when we heard the lad start chatting, You see, This particular piece of digital commentary was possibly one of the most dialectally comical cacophonies of nonsense speak I've ever seen, Or heard, Or...

Whatever, You know what I mean, The point being this geezer’s programming managed to factor in an American vernacular mixed with Brummie and South African, I can only hope I never fall victim to any of these contraptions because I'll just end up laughing at the flashback of this dude's babbling I haven't even mentioned the tangent thing, Basically, each piece of commentary absconded from the piece it originally corresponded to, Mr Digital Dude could move through two hundred years in one endless binary breath, In the end we put him to bed and read the display boards instead It occurred to me later they may have made the choice about his voice

to obscure the morbid nature of these organ deforming torture tools, The gruesome truth is that each exhibit had been used on a victim, Imprisoned and inflicted upon them a terrible torture, Forced into confession before being sent to death, Adding their final breath to the collection held by the Bridge of Sigh's The word ‘ballot’ derives from the Doge voting system, Ultimately it was thought it could combat fraud but as with anything, The ballot box can be bought and naughty people did just thus, God knows how, I’ll re-count to you what was written and you can figure it out because, I didn’t A child called a ballottino extracts balls from an urn, Thirty members who had touched the golden balls (???) participated in a new draw leaving us with nine, The latter then appointed forty counsellors and among them twelve were extracted, The twelve chose twenty five before moving back down to nine, Nine expressed the names of forty five of which only eleven remained, With me so far?

No, me neither but we’re nearly there, The eleven would appoint forty one voters of the Doge, And they needed thirty five votes to be elected " + * ) ( ' & % $ # By this point I thought I’d developed dyslexia, My head got ditrsesesd, Erevtynhig wnet msesy I hda to sotp ot tkae a berath

…

Well, Becoming dis-orientated in a torture museum was unusual, Every place I looked to for refuge sat a tool of abuse, The only chairs to sit on would jab rusty spikes up your bottom, Where years ago blokes in cotton robes would leave you tied to the seat until you were decrepit and rotten, Forgotten by everyone then sent to death Alleged heretics relentlessly questioned then sentenced for not repenting thus enacting the vengeance of God, Not a pretty time to be alive, From the 16th to the 19th century torture ran rife “Spaccaginocchi, that’s a cool word, Sounds like spaghetti shaped gnocchi”, The smile on my face promptly dissipated when seeing the literal translation was: Break knees, Two spikey bricks with sticks sitting adjacent ready to steadily displace the space between your upper and lower leg in an effort to get you to confess, Messy, messy times Five masks that could’ve been medieval Muppets look at us from across the room, Maschera D’Infima, or Ignominious Masks, Were attached to the heads of the condemned, You’d be sentenced to this if you’d spread slander about the established power for any number of hours These towers have seen countless disembowelments, The sounds of which still haunt the walls, Appalling tortures befalling all sorts of normal mortals like you and me,

Capital punishment is obscene and we, as a species, Should steer away from it completely, If you don’t believe me, Come take a look at some of this for yourself, You’ll see hell was invented by humans

Chemical Seduction Today’s subject is the seductress of chemical self-destruction, The allure of making naughty substances scrumptious, The bumps that bring a numbness that lead me like a compass into dumb shit, I love it but fumbling through life as a result is troublesome The routine usually goes, Smoke some weed, then I get the munchies, Head to the shop for Kit-Kat’s and Crunchies, Giant milky buttons because they’re lovely jubbly and a couple of Aero’s that are soft ‘n’ bubbly, I should’ve never get mashed then headed to the shop, Because when I see Pringle’s I just can’t stop, I’ve got an ice lolly rocket I’m a tenner out of pocket I keep spending all of my profits on toffee Poppet’s Buying all sorts like Basset’s Bertie, A big bottle of coke because I’m proper thirsty, Picking up a Chomp and a Curly-Wurly, If I see some penny sweets I’m gonna buy thirty Then again the next day, Wake and bake’s, never work in my favour, Backy and weed in some gummed paper for breakfast, Whatever sweets didn’t get finished the night before then Netflix, Another spliff,

Stretching, It’s oh so refreshing, This bed is a blessing That’s when the guilt sets in, Comfortable in my body but not in my skin knowing three hours will disintegrate if I have this kip, It’s half eleven as it is and I’m sat here debating whether or not to miss another day of my life Once or twice would be forgivable but this is habitual now, Living under a residual cloud of off my head or about to be, Asking how I’ve allowed this to devour me My name’s Lagan, I’m an addict, I have a massive dependency on ganja and I’m never without it, I started doing drugs when I was 14 and it was the first time the doubt got drowned out with positivity, The voice in my head had never mentioned the fact we could be happy and these sweets appeared to be the key Nearly twenty years later I don’t really take much now, But green buds and brown blocks still occupy my life, I want not to just say goodbye to it but fuck off and die, Every time I try I find myself climbing the walls for it There’s rehab out there, for those that can afford it, The GP doesn’t have a clue and just looks at me with boredom, I’m appalled at myself for not being able to form a sense of control but by addiction I’ve been scolded and so, Moving forward will continue to be awkward, Unless I stumble across a sorcerer who can remove the spell, I’ll have to continue trying to explore the borders of my mind until I find a solution,

It can’t be true that this nuisance will be forever present, I don’t consent to it, If you know anything useful to help me do it, Please, pop it over so I can use it Hayfever Any hole’s a goal, That’s how pollen feels about my nose, The petals of a rose make me need to blow a copious load of snot out of my sinuses My tissues?

They’re the shiniest, I’m as bunged up, as the grimiest, My mucus is the slimiest and out of all of my bodies orifices I’m surprised to find that it’s this one that’s the untidiest It’s beginning to get to a point where my nostrils need a hospital, This condition is flippin’ ‘orrible and impossible to stop, Despair upon my face as snot begins to drop from these two rotten holes who make their home inside my nose, I need triply ply bog roll just to invoke any chance of soaking up this relentless flow of sticky green mucus that shouldn’t really be on show It actually feels as if I’m doing the Hokey Cokey with my bogeys, You put your left one in, Your left one out, In, out, in out, shake it all about, Pick out a big green bogey, Flick it out at the crowd, That’s what it’s all about *Huff* So,

Now that we’ve established that mother nature hates me, Which is why she lets pollen desecrate me, Block my nose and basically sedate me until I’m placid, lazy, hazy brained, mentally restrained and all of my thoughts are contained within a cell made of mucus membrane Being allergic to summer is an absolute bummer, I mean I love the sun but the pollen sucks me under which has allowed me to come to the conclusion that all of this photo-flipping-synthesis can kiss my lily white…

Tissue I have massive issues with the fact that this part of my respiratory tract reacts in such a tragic fashion to the planet passing to within a cosmic fraction of our solar system’s star, Leaving my face blown apart, Starved of the anti-bodies my body needs to maintain optimum respiration, This nasal inflammation causes a little more than irritation, I’d describe it as sinus devastation that requires a maximum amount of medication Which leads me swiftly onto Beconase, A steroid based spray that requires two squirts per day into each of my nasal cavities to combat the abnormalities that come from pollen attacking me Naturally, I went to the doctor where they prescribed some Cetirizine Hydrochloride along with Xylometazoline 0.9% eye drops designed to stop my eyeballs from popping out and escaping my face, I pray for the day this infliction makes haste and finally goes away,

It makes me suffer for no discernible reason, May is the beginning of this deadly season, Which is why I look forward to October because when the leaves fall off of the trees it finally means you’re leaving