Our Daughter, The Bible Flasher!
… but you must our daughter cure Dr Jackie!
No turmeric spell by wife help, last night at wedding
party ov son, wid girls whooping on broomstick dance
and wise ladies gassing voodoo-powders in corner
for toying wid rickshaw-tired stars, I leav di Bacardi
Bernand-Manning-joke-cracking boys who show we laugh
can take from tele; in hallway I catch dis two foot
girl
twitchey her nose, could it be … ? O Dr Jackie,
our Rapinder
standing by dis blue god of photo who get more blue
as sari tutt-tutt-tattering to lino, under she white
collar wear
and black cotton costume, wid nose to di artex ceiling
she march wid bible for party tent, screeching: All
tings
bright and beautipel … So please Dr Jackie!
I roll her up
in sari rags to play wid Black Magic masks upstairs
(we all families hav) and ask her, Wut is rong wid
Rub?
Always again in British on me: Does he too do Christmas
making money for charities wid Cliff Richard?
