Last Call

But I'm not one for poetry,

not really entertaining, in my opinion, as the movies, for me,

a bit of comedy or cutting the lawn,

which I enjoy for reasons I don't fully understand.

No, I'm not one for poetry.

I can't say his was unpleasant, exactly.

Really, it's like the little tinkling you hear

from the music box when you open it up,

and you shut it, and it's gone.

And as I was green

and carefree...

famous among the barns,

about the happy yard and singing as the farm was home...

In the sun that is young once only

time let me play and be golden

in the mercy of his means.

And green and golden

I was huntsman and herdsman,

that calves sang to my horn,

the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,

and the sabbath rang slowly

in the pebbles of the holy streams.

[flashes popping, cheering and applause]

I appreciate that as I've been mentioned in the newspapers,

the mere gazing upon my person creates a sense of validation...

...thank you.

Like witnessing a very important car accident.

I love you! - I love you, too.

You bastard!

Thank you.

It is unnatural, the egg.

How was your trip, Mr. Thomas?

Isn't it the embryo of a living thing, a chicken?

The consuming of embryos not even coveted

by the Chinese and they ate puppies.

But the trip? How was the tour?

Oh, the trip was wonderful, Carlos.

Four months of being feted and worshipped...

what we all require by rarely obtain.

Monied rest.

Well, you're here very early today.

And with good cause, Carlos.

- Cause? - The weather was

particularly fine this morning, the sky clear.

Even the birds in their song were praising

the demi-paradise that is us.

- That sounds nice. - Hmm.

So I thought what better place to come than the White Horse,

which smells of piss, stale beer,

and the hidden depths of feral creatures.

- One scotch, then? - Double.

First one of the day, very important.

And it must not suffer in anonymity,

we shall name it, you and I.

Return of the Prodigal Son, Carlos.

Hi, Mr. Thomas!

Chaps!

What do you think, we're naming drinks.

What do you mean?

Giving them names, specific names... names, monikers,

designations, captions, titles, labels, to label, to dub,

to christen, to baptize, to name drinks as we must name

all things, to change them, yes?

No?

Oh, well, I suppose it's early in the morning.

We shall call this first drink... Innocence, which is,

after all, how all things begin, without guide or intention.

Was that straight up or with soda, sir?

Innocence by it's very nature, Carlos, is unsullied.

...gentlemen.

Good morning, good morning, good fucking morning.

Yes, he was, uh, he was very much appreciated

wherever we went, um...

concerning the money, it wasn't, it wasn't

a large sum of money, but it was, it was more

- than he had earned before. - What about the drinking?

I would say, I would say that's exaggerated.

What is?

The reporting of his drinking, I would say that's,

I would say that's very exaggerated.

- Exaggerated, really? - Yes.

How do you mean... "exaggerated"?

Um, exaggerated, um... made bigger, extreme,

more than it is, exaggerated, as in exaggerated.

Okay. Let's accept that.

Shouldn't you have stopped him?

I mean, before what happened?

Are you a liar, Mr. Brinnan?

It is with the greatest pride that I have the honor

of introducing one of the most unique voices of our generation.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Dylan Thomas.

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs,

about the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,

the night above the dingle starry,

time let me hail and climb,

golden in the heydays of his eyes

and honored among wagons I was prince of the apple towns

and once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves

trail with daisies and barley

down the rivers of the windfall light.

Nothing like a good piss if it offers the pleasure of relief

and the delight of knowing there's more room at the inn,

so a second, please, Carlos, and a third.

What?

Bartender... not brother's keeper.

Fix on me no harm, Carlos.

Actually, he meant it rhetorically.

Who?

God? The brother's keeper reference.

Don't take it away.

Think of it as the sadness of the half-forgotten

of the vague scent of what it once was.

He was only going to wash it.

Shall we wash away the past, Teddy?

He's just gonna clean the glass.

Yes, shouldn't we hold the past precious?

Isn't that why we label our experiences?

- Label? - That awful day

or that summer at your parents.

Nothing unnamed can be precious

because the unnamed is lost, combined, forgotten.

- I forget things. - But in naming things

we change the essence of that we wish to remember.

Memory, what a mess.

It's as much fiction as it is truth.

All the same, it's how we order our world,

so let's name things.

What are you gonna name that one?

- Enthusiasm. - Enthusiasm?

Enthusiasm, Carlos, because the second double scotch

makes the world a pleasanter place,

one for which we might have some enthusiasm.

Who knows what the future might bring?

Perhaps some enthusiasm for some new gained wisdom

or an adventure worthy of enthusiasm, looking at

the end of the bar... in the corridor, leading to the loo.

[birds chirping, sheep bleating]

Yes, I'm coming!

So you're off, then?

I am.

No drink in there, I hope.

No.

Say good-bye to your father, children.

Ooh, I'll miss you all so very, very, very, very,

very much, I'll miss you all.

Daddy will write to us and he'll send great gobs

of money so we can all have nice things.

That's why he's going to America and leaving us behind.

Just because he went before and didn't send hardly

any money back, we shouldn't think

that the same will happen again.

Silly mummy.

Brinnan.

Ah... Dylan!

- I was worried. - Terrible flight.

Very sorry, but your plane landed two hours ago, Dylan.

Full of gnomes, international spies

and Presbyterians... horrible.

- Did you not know I was here? - Yes.

- Yes? - Yes.

- Yes, well, I was. - Yes, well, you were,

but Presbyterians, Brinnan.

Yes, um, let's get you to your hotel.

No, no, we'll have a heroic night, I must make it up to you.

I can tell you're upset, we'll go to the Minetta Tavern

and have a few drinks there, meet some old friends

and then on to the San Remo...

No, no, no, no, no, but I would like...

Save the best for our return to New York...

the White Horse, my promiscuous muse...

but let's gather our rosebuds while we may.

This is a gift, I've been wanting to give that to you.

Gift? Thank God, I thought it might be

that awful book you've been working on.

And I'm very glad it is.

We met in a pub, of course, the Wheatsheaf in Fitzrovia,

we were, uh, immediately attracted to each other

and started what was to become a long series of...

wonderful nights together.

Do you remember our first time, Dylan?

Yes, of course.

It was a time of great wonderment.

You took off your trousers and you didn't have

any underpants on, which was slightly grotesque.

But then you never wore them... why?

Hmm, it's a time-saving measure.

You ran... ran into bed and got under the sheets

as quickly as you could.

You still had your jacket and shirt on and your socks.

I think it's 'cause you didn't want me to see your funny,

little, pink body, do you remember that?

I remember that.

Time stood still, and cloistered from the world,

safe from it all.

Tempests could've raged behind the walls and waves

could've bust away the city, but we were safe... magic.

You had such a funny body then.

It was like a pink turtle without its shell.

Yes, you keep saying... it's a recurring theme.

That's all we remember, images, I suppose,