Poem - Extract From Summoned By Bells - John Betjeman

In today's extract fro 'Summoned By Bells' John Betjeman recalls his father arriving home in a foul mood and unleashing his anger on his rebellious son. (Blank verse - read according to the punctuation, not line to line.)

A motor broke the spell and that was that;
And here was home, and here the gate, and there
The Arrol-Johnston crawling down the lane.
And on the morning after burst the storm:
"How often have I said the bacon's cold?
Confound it, Bess! Confound! When will they learn?"
Bang! Boom! His big fists set the cups a-dance,
The willow-pattern shivered on the shelves,
His coat-sleeve swept an ash-tray to the floor .....
"Just down for breakfast, sir? You're good enough
To honour us by coming down at ten!
Don't fidget, boy. Attention when I speak!
As I was saying - now I look at you -
Bone-lazy, like my eldest brother Jack,
A rotten, low, deceitful little snob,
Yes, I'm in trade and proud of it, I am!"
Black waves of hate went racing round the room;
My gorge was stuck with undigested toast.
And did this woman once adore this man?
And did he love her for her form and face?
I drew my arm across my eyes to hide
The horror in them at the wicked thoughts.
"My boy, it's no good sulking. Listen here.
You'll go to Bates and order me the car,
You'll caddy for me on the morning round,
This afternoon you'll help me dig for bait,
You'll weed the lawn and, when you've finished that,
I'll find another job for you to do.
I'll keep you at it as I've kept myself-
I'll have obedience! Yes, by God, I will!"
"You damn well won't! I'm going out today!"
I darted for the door. My father rose.
My saintly mother, on her serious face
A regal look of dignified reproach-
"They both are in the wrong"-now seized her chance:
She waved an arm and dropped her cigarette.
"Come back!" she cried, and heard her cry ring out
As rang the martyred wife's or mother's cry
In many a Temple Thurston she had read,
Or Philip Gibbs: "He is your father , John!"
I scraped my wrist along the unstained oak
And slammed the door against my father's weight-
And ran like mad and ran like mad and ran .....
"I'm free! I'm free!" The open air was warm
And heavy with the scent of flowering mint,
And beetles waved on bending leagues of grass,
And all the baking countryside was kind.

Extract from Summoned By Bells
John Betjeman