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Poor Blue
Poor Blue. Written about a visit to the butchers with my mum, in Liverpool, when I was a child
Poor Blue
To butchers I went
With mother to spend
Some money on meat for the week
For two days a week
My mother cooked meat,
Boiled tatties, with carrots and peas
This did coincide
With baths as child
As meat and a bath were a treat
But not just for me
As brother you see
Shared both on the same day each week
But back to the tale
Of butcher regale
With mother and me lined in queue
In front of us stood
A man and his dog
A long haired Alsatian named Blue
From nowhere a smell
Invaded the shell
Inside of the small butchery
In nostril it crept
As tear drops I wept
And nausea overcame me
My mother said loud
“Dogs shunt be allowed,
In places where foods on display”
Blue looked at my mum
And though it were dumb
It’s eyes displayed hurt and dismay
The butcher stared down
Addressing the hound,
Said, “you and your master must go.
Please turn about face
And leave from this place
Dog farting is such a no no”
Both bloke and the dog
Departed the shop
And left with their tales between legs
When I looked at mum
She whispered “keep schtum”
For from her came’t smell of bad eggs
For months after that
When we shared a bath
Both brother and me made a joke
We’d fart in the bath
Make bubbles and laugh
At mother, Poor Blue and the bloke
N.L.G
Copyright ©
Nigel Gray
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