(or, why Bullseye really got cancelled)
At first, they hardly noticed the slips,
like when Jim asked one couple if they often went to church,
the producer snapping 'we'll edit that out.'
Or when they hit 'Faces' asking them, in banter,
if they thought the Turin shroud was real.
Maybe it was like speaking in tongues, 'cos
in the green room, Bowen denied all knowledge, but
''Stay out of the black and into the red,
you get nothing in this game for two in an extra-marital bed"
was what slipped out, the producer sweated
'we'll edit in last week's audio and the cameras on the audience.'
By the last round, when they revealed the prizes on the board,
it went: 'Iiiin one!' - “The Father”
'Iiiin two!' - “Son”
'Iiiin three!' - “and Holy Ghost!”
when it was plainly a crystal drinks decanter.
When Jim asked the winners if they wanted to gamble,
he said “You've got the time it took our Lord Christ to resurrect
to decide.” But what took the biscuit was when
“Let's take a look at what you could've won”,
and instead of a caravan or a speedboat, the board
revolved to reveal the very Kingdom of Heaven,
with angels, doves, clouds, Bernini sunlight, St Peter,
a caravan and a speedboat and a tankard,
glory shining all around Bully as a seraphim,
bellowing his beefy clarion down a heavenly golden horn.
Only then did the Producer take off his cans, put his head
in his hands and said 'No, this whole episode is going to be unusable.'
(NB: Jim Bowen once described Bullseye as "the second-best darts-based game show on television". There were no others.)
This one is about how I started feeling religious while in hospital and almost almost on the point of death, but how it doesn't really fit in with my self-image and career choices. In this poem, Jim Bowen is my objective correlative.
Feedback welcome.
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