Orpheus Signs On

A poem

Orpheus Signs On

Orpheus stubs out a smoke
ashtray overflowing 
mildewed walls
council flat, cracked window pane
taped up cardboard 
draught excluder 

door slams, slate grey sky
threatens
the no. 26 bus
teens huffing whippets 
on graffitied back seats
forty five minutes 
traffic jams, ring road
horns dull blaring 

Orpheus steps into the job centre 
desk cretins beckon
greasy bureaucratic smiles
asking, what skills do you possess 
what work will you do
fingers clicking across a dirty keyboard 
electric strip lights humming 

proudly, without hesitation, 
he pulls out a lyre
for a moment 
a flash of Eurydice's 
heavenly features 
shatters the mundane 

then a fat fingered clerk 
points to a sign
NO MUSIC HERE
NO MUSIC OR HOPE
also, your benefits are cancelled 

stumbling alone and upset 
in rain sodden clothes 
Orpheus trips 
his lyre crushed
under the wheels 
of a passing bin lorry

singing his saddest song
attracts the ire
of passing drunks
who for fun, tear him, limb from limb
balancing his torsoless head
atop a wheelie bin
where he sings 
and sings 
and smells of rubbish 
and council flat mildew

Author’s note

Orpheus Signs On is part of an chapbook I am working on, Underpass Mythologies: Notes from an Absurdist Underworld, which reimagines Greek gods, heroes and mythical figures in a contemporary British working-class setting. The poems transplant ancient myths into pubs, job centres, tower blocks and underpasses, exploring class, masculinity, addiction along with other absurdities of modern life.

If you enjoyed this poem, you might also like The Betrayal of Pigeons.