Insanity left him when he needed it most.
Forty years at Bryant & May, and a scroll
To prove it. Gold lettering, and a likeness
Of the Founder. Grandad’s name writ small:
‘William McGarry, faithful employee’.
A spent match by the time I knew him.
Choking on fish bones, talking to himself,
And walking round the block with a yardbrush
Over his shoulder. ‘What for, Gran?’ ‘Hush…
Poor man, thinks he’s marching off to war.
‘Spitting image of Charlie, was your Grandad,
And taller too.’ She’d sigh. ‘Best-looking
Man in Seaforth. And straight-backed?
Why, he’d walk down Bridge Road
As if he had a coat-hanger in his suit.’
St Joseph’s Hospice for the Dying, in Kirkdale,
Is where Chaplin made his last movie.
He played Grandad, and gave a fine performance
Of a man raging against God, and cursing
The nuns and nurses who tried to hold him down.
Insanity left him when he needed it most.
The pillow taken from his face
At the moment of going under. Screaming
And fighting to regain the years denied,
His heart gave out, his mind gave in, he died.
The final scene brings tears to everybody’s eyes.
In the parlour, among suppurating candles
And severed flowers, I see him smiling
Like I’d never seen him smile before.
Coat-hanger at his back. Marching off to war.