Poem 358


A song from the musical The Nightdress written by myself and Tim Finn … I wrote lyrics for the songs and Tim the music … the story is about the Road Hill House murder in 1860 in Wiltshire, England … 16 year old Constance Kent abducted her infant half-brother Saville from his crib in the middle of the night and killed him, ostensibly as an act of revenge against her stepmother Mary Pratt …

… thinking about the circumstances of the crime and the layout of the large house I realised Constance probably practiced it beforehand, perhaps many times … so this song sung by Constance shows her rehearsing, creeping less than silently around the sleeping household with its oblivious ten or more occupants, feeling a sense of power and relishing her special knowledge of what is to come …

( I like the complex rhyme schemes of the verses … and the glee and menace of Constance’s tone, made all the more creepy by watching her move amongst her sleeping family and finish poised by her stepmother’s bed … )



Dry Run

Old houses creak 
a dead language 
that they speak 
in the deep dead hours 
under bare feet
old floorboards groan 
just the stretching 
of their bones 
or perhaps suggesting 
you are not alone

Don't worry it's only 
a dry run 
I haven't settled on my plans 
don't worry it's only 
a dry run 
to test the lie of the land

Road Hill House creaks 
sighs and fidgets 
in its sleep
giving me away 
though I sneak
stiff hinges fret 
for oil 
they won't get
loose handles rattle 
tattle tale
who is that?

Don't worry it's only
a dry run
a chance for Constance to rehearse
don't worry it's only
a dry run
to see how deeply 
sleeps the nurse

Dry run 
a midnight peregrination 
dry run 
a dreamlike visitation
and gone ...

Don't tell me mercy falls
like gentle rain 
if I'm a desert 
don't complain 
what I will rain 
is something different again 
and nothing good will grow from it 
no
nothing good

Each time I move 
I make music 
tongue and groove
door latches window catches
shriek a midnight tune
this cacophony of sound 
you'd think would bring 
the house down
instead like sheep 
they sleep 
as I creep round

Don't worry it's only 
a dry run
tonight I stay my hand
don't worry it's only 
a dry run
I haven't settled all my plans

But when the wet run comes 
oh how wide your eyes 
exclaiming that this came 
from a clear blue sky
you won't remember 
I won't forget 
that you lay deaf and dumb 
you stupidly slept 
through each and every one 
of my sly of my dry
dry runs

Sleep Mary Pratt 
sleep unaware 
don't dream that 
I'm beside you here 
determined
to turn you 
into an insomniac



Dry Run