, , ,

On Saturday mornings before I do my shopping

And run some errands

I like to go to the garage sales in my neighbourhood

I usually look for CDs Books and Plants

But sometimes I spend more Money then I should

On this particular Saturday morning

I slept in and was I was running a bit late

If you don’t get there early

The good stuff will already have been sold

But a bargain can still be had

You just have to sort through the good from the bad

I was looking at the selection on the Two Dollar Table

When out of the corner of my Eye

I spotted this Bottle shaped Lamp

Well I caught my breath and my Hands got all sweaty

Surely it couldn’t be?

This was exactly the same as the Lamp on that old TV show

‘I Dream Of Jeannie’

It was about 16 inches tall with a Glass Stopper

A Bargain for any savvy shopper

I couldn’t believe my Eyes

But I tried to stay calm

I grabbed that Lamp paid my Two Dollars

And I got out of there as fast as I could

Just like any bargain hunter would

Well I did my shopping and my errands

And then I drove home on Auto Pilot

My thoughts were consumed by that Lamp

My Hands were still shaking and damp

I could barely grip the Steering Wheel

Cause a Genie In A Lamp is a very big deal

God my Car is slower then a three legged Turtle

I only bought it cause I like the colour Purple

I am being overtaken by Pedestrians and a Guy

on a Bike

That Guy is a neighbour I think his name is Mike

Well I finally arrive home

I carry my shopping and that Lamp into my place

My Heart is beating double time

My breathing can barely keep pace

But first I unpack my shopping and change my Clothes

What is inside that Lamp?

Well nobody really knows

I cant take the tension anymore

So I go and lock all of the Doors

And then I pick up that Lamp

I grip it so tightly I get a freaking cramp

I take off the Stopper and peer into the opening

My nerves are shot

And my Eyes aren’t coping

It is dark inside like Aladdins Cave

But someone is down there giving me a little wave

So I put the Lamp on the Kitchen Table

And I start rubbing

And then the Room fills with Smoke

And out pops this weird little old Bloke

Where is Barbara Eden when you need her?

Instead I am stuck with this skinny old Cur

He looks a bit like Uriah Heep or maybe Ebenezer


Just my luck

Now I have got the Genie In A Lamp  blues

He is dressed like a cross between Marcel Marceu and a

Circus Acrobat

He sticks out his Hand

And tells me that his name is Blat

Well I guess beggars cant be choosers

Who cares if the Genie is young or old

I am just lucky he has arrived into my fold

The Elderly are always calmer and wiser

I just hope that my Genie isn’t a money miser

I tell Blat that I was expecting a Genie of the Female


He said to ‘Just relax and enjoy the occasion’

Blat tells that he has been a Genie for one hundred

generations or more

But who is really keeping score

He thinks he was born in Romania Bulgaria or maybe

The Balkans

Jesus Blat sure does a lot of talking

I wish he would shut up and grant me my wishes

While he is talking I go and wash the dishes

When I return Blat is no longer around

Then from the Lamp I hear a little sound

I hold the Lamp up to my Ear

And then I look down the Neck

And can see Blat picking up some scatter Cushions

And maybe a Magic Wand?

I want my three wishes

But I don’t want to keep pushing

Blat arranges the Cushions

And he sits in a cross legged pose

I hope I come out of this smelling like a Rose?

But I have a feeling that Blat is stalling

I think that my wishes might be free falling

Blat looks me right in the Eye

And he says that he has a confession to make

He is a Charleton a complete fake

He is only filling in while his niece is on Holidays

The working conditions are bad

But it really pays

So there are no three wishes for me

No Millions of Dollars

No living forever

No endless supply of my favourite Beer

If Blat cant give me any Christmas cheer

He might as well get the fuck out of here

Blat is full of apologises that he cant grant me my wishes

But these things are sometimes hits or misses

He tells me to just leave the Lamp on the Table

And in the Morning He and the Lamp will be gone

Then he gives me a hug goodbye

And then He is gone in a puff of smoke

Even though he couldn’t grant me my wishes

Blat wasn’t such a bad Bloke

I pick up the Lamp and I have one last look inside

Blat is sitting there all sad and lonely

I nearly cried

It isn’t his fault that he was just Holiday relief

What goes around comes around

That is my belief

Blat was true to his word

Cause in the morning the Lamp had disappeared

And there was static in the air that felt kind of weird

I got Goosebumps my Skin started to tingle

Maybe next time I will meet Blats Niece

And hopefully She will be single

I still go to the garage sales every Saturday morning

In the hope of finding that Lamp again

I feel empty

Like I am in mourning

I will find that Goddamn Lamp again

Any which way I can.


Thank you for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation to go towards my ambition to become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.