The Dunny Out the Back.
When I was a lad, we had a dunny out the back,
just a hundred feet away from the house,
down a little narrow track.
I never paid a call, as often as I should,
because upon opening the door,
the smell, boy, was it good.
Once inside, it was cold, dark, and clammy,
sitting there with my parts all bared,
sent shivers up my tummy.
At night, with the blankets over my head,
I would give thanks,
for the chamber pot, stowed under my bed.
Once, while in the toilet, in the rain,
a large spider, bit me on the leg,
jeepers, what a pain.
I was up, and out of there, as fast as I could run,
screaming, dad, dad, dad,
a bloody great spider, just bit me on the bum.
"Quiet, quiet, son" he said,
"you are making enough noise to wake the dead."
Now, when I am in the toilet, with its air conditioned heat,
sitting ensconced upon my china throne,
my mind drifts back to that old bush dunny,
with its solid wooden seat.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
