Humility for Georgio

Humility for Georgio

The great Fashion Icon is dead after a long and wonderful life

I could cobble together a piece about him

I live with 3 Shanghai girls

and Shanghai girls look down on Parisienne girls

Yes really, and Shanghai girls are far far richer

Though in our case obviously not as we live in Birmingham England

So I'll paste in my poem from The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker

by me, Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham

at the end

BUT here is a smile

So  Georgio gets to heaven and Saint Peter hands him

some of my old clothes, as Humility is everything in Heaven

Carl had warned him in a dream

So Georgio smiles

So I have to wear Michael Casey's clothes, the fat silver haired writer in shades

from Birmingham England and SOB, son of a Blacksmith from Kerry Eire

At least I don't have to wear his smelly shoes

Saint Peter smiles, that comes later

So Georgio wears my M&S jumper, 4xl designed to hide my hernia

On Georgio it reaches down past his knees, ok as far as his shins

then my blue jeans cos trousers won't fit Michael Casey's Beyonce size backside

Georgio rolls up the trouser legs

If Georgio were still alive the shame would be unbearable

Then Georgio is made walk past angels and saints and sinners too

He's given an old George Dixon Grammar school for boys tie

He is allowed to do what he likes with it

Burn it is he first thought

But Green and Red stripes looks familiar

so Georgio Blindfolds himself

Just in case there are any mirrors in Paradise

But there are none, so Georgio was wasting his time

Then Georgio gets a fit of laughing

It's the REM song and when. I die  I'll meet  God Laughing

Something like that

Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from

Birmingham England , HE used to listen to that on the

night shift in the Computer Room with Pad Webb

the man to blame for  Michael Casey writing

his first full book and best friend to

 Tony Cole who named his daughter Natalie 

The memories

But back to Heaven

Georgio keeps on laughing

I suppose you want me to have Jeyes Fluid drain cleaner

as a perfume behind my ears too

Saint Peter smiles

You must have said a few Rosaries to anticipate that

Georgio was sprayed behind the ears

The whole hosts of Hosannas sung

Georgio beamed

He was in Heaven what did it matter what he looked like

A tramp would look better than being dressed as Casey

Georgio laughed and laughed till he cried

Saint Peter said you have passed the Humility test

You may choose what you wear and to be honest

you all allowed to set up shop here in Paradise

But Georgio Armani just whispered

You may think I'm barmy but I have found 

what I am looking for

Eternal Rest dressed as Michael Casey 

the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England

Because 

All the Saints in Heaven and on Earth have read

The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey

because he is  the greatest SOB, son of a blacksmith from Kerry Eire

ask his dad Con Casey

I wrote this in Nov 1987 on a Sunday on the way to work

I remember Keith Jackson saying it was poetic as I corner him

with the snatch I’d written

The Dead and The Living (c)

                           by

                     Michael  Casey

     I first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said  not

     to worry as the dead are the same as the living ,  only the  laughter

     has left them ,  the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has

     been lifted from their shoulders ,  and their voice has vanished  to

     eternity .

     In  paradise the sparkle will return for it is the  twinkle  of  the

     stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and

     the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .

     I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living,

     though I find the deceased are always more polite .  My father also

     had a few words to say about the living .

     He said that the living are only the caretakers of the  soul  ,  yet

     they think their existence is everything , that they know everything

      because they experience many things with their senses .

      What the living don’t acknowledge is that their time is  short  and

      when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls  continue  without

      them ,  without their strong ,  without their weak ,  without  their

      beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only

      that it is a better place .

      Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free

                          THE  BEGINNING

 *****

from The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker by Michael Casey  (me)

ciao