Rochford Town: dirty paint and the dust of history fall from the buildings facades, an autumnal fading of aging architecture. The square has been ravaged by my generation’s favourite decade. If the sixties gave birth to the modern man and woman, liberating us all sexually and leaving a legacy of great music and literature, then it had quite the reverse effect with architecture. Flat concrete and glass designed shops flop against their quaint hallowed counterparts. The supermarket has grown like a wart on the arse of a lady and remains a zit of a building. Squat glass references to the visionaries of modern architects from those not fit to shade in their dreams. Here it fails miserably. From my youthful memory the nineteen sixties was the greatest of times, probably due to my being only fifteen when it finished, but its desire to bring modernity to the grim grey preceding decades of the forties and fifties failed when buildings of antiquity and historical importance were smashed down and replaced by characterless structures such as this. However, the scent of history clings here; you can smell it as you walk around. The market square no longer has cattle that used be to driven across the railway lines, passing through the station and then herded into the town; in its place, and on Tuesday’s only, is a general purpose rag tag of stalls: bric-a-brac and clothes. The market dates back to twelve forty seven.
but I've got to cross this river to get my business done.
Saul said to Sarah, Girl, button up your dress
your fathers on the prowl, your sins to him confess.
Enoch said to Joseph, man, that was such a blast
but I've got to speak to Jesus to make his divinity last.
Jesus spoke to Krishna 'You know, we both are alike
but I bet your congregation didn't nail you with a spike. '
Loki sat down softly with mischief in his sack
he sharpened up his wicked knife to place in someone's back.
Rama did a pirouette as Bast slowly turned
to the tune of a saxophone whilst Surt gaily burned.
Poseidon eyed up Brigit, 'Lady, I like your smile.'
'Indeed,' said she with a grin, 'come lay with me awhile.'
Cronus sat with Zeus and played a game of chess
with pieces made of jade, Phersephone to impress.
Yemaya danced with Bishamon she liked his Shinto ways,
Anubis fancied Balor (even deities have gays).
Loki fixed a fire and let the flames rise
he laid a torch to heaven that lit up the skies.
Odin of the one eye with his ravens and his son
rode out to find Obatala waging war on everyone.
They poured libations to themselves and drank their bellies full
whilst Yahweh said to Allah 'I remember you from school'.'
Vishnu played a game of dice with pilgrims and with saints
watched by tired Ixchel, bright rainbows she paints.
Hades, bored of hell sits and contemplates
Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, sisters and the Fates.
But Loki never can resist an evil game or ploy
with twine and twig a plot device more than Balder he'll destroy.
The deities are dancing on, the deities dance still
they lead us such a merry chase no doubt they always will.
For every god or deity be they small or great
are but the stuff of fantasy that mankind did create.
all words and art are copyright © of C.J. Duffy.