Oscar Wilde Knows What Stupidity and Misfortune Are. By John Doyle

 Oscar Wilde knows what misfortune and stupidity are,

this is the second gas-station gig

I've dragged myself into.

Steph appointed herself supervisor - the manager -

a guy from Cork who looks half-Viking, half plain-stupid

says nothing. So every-time Steph is finished her shift

she tells me which of the two bathrooms I should clean,

writes notes in the diary about the dirty weekend she'll have,

a little pencil caricature of herself beside vague details

of aforementioned dirty weekend. 

There's a kind soul here who should be called Cletus.

Him and me wonder what Steph means by dirty weekend, 

I shout a few suggestions from the bathroom 

as I clean it and he guffaws like a hyena. Customers look around,

remaining silent - I should probably care.

The final ever Evening Press arrives.

Cletus has a good laugh, a good wholegrain mustard laugh,

plays W.A.S.P. tapes on his car 

which draws the ire of the queen of sophistication Steph -

back from her dirty weekend 

which consisted of looking at Prêt-à-Porter.

This escapes our manager from Cork,

who instead uses his Oxbridge days and silk-smooth tongue

to tell me what will happen to my career

if I leave the can with skidmarks in it again.

Oscar Wilde knows what stupidity and misfortune are,

can he do a Nostradamus too?

See this hulking slab of lard with Albert Trotter’s beard in 25 years

recovering from his third nervous breakdown,

Steph running mindfulness clinics 

for couples with sons called Jude?

I hope not. It's far too frightening: 

those poor lost and helpless shits, 

the two of them.

I look for Cletus on Facebook.

Still nothing.

John Doyle became a Mod again in the summer of 2017 to fight off his impending mid-life crisis; whether this has been a success remains to be seen. He has has two collections published to date, A Stirring at Dusk in 2017, and Songs for Boys Called Wendell Gomez in 2018, both on PSKI's Porch.


He is based in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland. All he asks is that you leave your guns at the door and tie up your horses before your enter.