Not Mad; An Ode to Needful Things


Not Mad; An Ode To Needful Things




There is a book I know,

A book named Needful Things

By the author Steven King,

And it’s laughable in many ways

How the devil works upon people

Filled with hate,

But the laughing stops short,

Is cut short by realization,

This town be his current take away.


I was just a kid when I arrived

In Heywood with its spires,

Yet my introduction by a school

They should have bull dozed

Was a blanking to my intellect,

And Patrick was a bastard,

By Foffy was scrawled upon

The desk,

But Foffy knew of none of it

As he bent to take the slipper

And this is where you gain your

Degrees in Spite,

This is where your life

Begins to make no sense.


Needful Things are scattered all around

As clown who peddle make believe as truth

Conjure acts of violence on anyone

With heart,

And I’m hearing between

The four walls of my prison

My name on recommendations

Of a setup; and the devil takes

A shine to anyone who plays.


Playing like the harbingers of hell

The smell of demons has me stunned,

And snubbed and shunned I have become,

As they try to cajole retaliation

From a victim,

And the lads and lasses go by in

Puzzlement for all they say I am,

And I’m not the only one,

Not the only one within a town

Where spite and poverty are rife.


Watching clocks Tick and Tock,

I’m doing time already,

But be aware of Monkey town,

Be aware the sad of clowns,

Be aware the demons play

The people upon each,


Monkey Towns gone mad for business,

As mischief quarrels all,

And the best advice I can give,

To stop the halt of trying to imprison you,

Is to see no,

Speak no

Hear no,

Do no evil upon each,

Then let the devil drive away,

Horse drawn and fatigued,

And be at once the community

They try split by ignoring play of mind.


Heywood, they call it Monkey Town,

Still has a place within my heart,

Let not the demons baffle you,

Let not the contradictions

Within history or paradoxic thought,

Keep you from your families of love,


     Watch his carriage draw away,

     Baffled by his own designs,

     The devil had his name on you

     But you’ll beat him at his game,

     Keep a silent quarter and know

     Upon his tricks,

     Each tiny town he tries to claim

     Is how he gets his kicks,

     And if you find you’re at request

     Of law as innocence you’ll claim,

     Just cite the Book named Needful Things

     And quote them Stephen King.


Michael J Waite 15th January 2012.

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