Words That By The Wayside Fell - Poem by Danny Draper
Was a term when I was a lad
It meant to be honest or
An exclamation or incredulity.
I, realizing it dated me in my early
Adulthood, ditched it.
Was a mate of Deadset and often
An accompanying exasperation or
request for confirmation in astonishment,
but departed around the same time.
It's bad luck to be superstitious!
Was a phrase whose stead
I kept good company in my forties
Until my kids and those of friends
Made me realise my cynicism against
Untested home spun truths was cliche.
'Dog' as suffix
Carried me to my fifties
'Facedog', 'chipdogs' and 'fishdogs'
interchangeable with 'chickencats'
As non-descript pre-dementia
Couldn't care less welcome to aged
The world is full of generic merging
Into nothingness consumable stuff
Over which no care could be made
save to encompass all things bleakly.
How's ya belly where the pig bit ya?
A phrase old Cob Foy, my Grandads' mate
Greated us with as kids accompanied
by a gentle pinch of the belly
Obscure and bizarre, confronting, harmless,
Implicit child molestation in brave modernity.
A word I have retained throughout
Entertained me in my drunken youth
By bands in pubs and different jobs
Friends moving house or parties
Applied to shows and plays in time
In opera houses and theatres too
I do not abandon a hungry desire for
Grey matter teasing distractions
Nor welcome some distant fate
As a discarded tired phrase.
Danny Draper 26/9/2013
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