New Poem: Kinch Bellies Up to the Bar

Here we create new words,

call it

“killing rats for fun and profit”.

It pays just about the same.

 

I believe it was Scylla the Rock

who first said,

“We all speak Typonese”

even though he never misspells.

 

Boyz are so different.

Even when I don’t like it I have to try

and hide the tears when I cry.

Well they got some different stuff, yes.

Yes, they do.

 

I just got booted oot.

Wrong person to boot;

bribed the bouncer to get back in.

 

One guy was a bouncer

in another Irish pub.

How do you get tossed  out

of your local Irish club?

 

Fisticuffs is what me mam

called  ’em.

People not drinking

enough

are likely to get surly.

 

Irish fisticuffs.

Hunt the hare and turn her down

the rocky road to Dub-bi-lin

Whack follol de rah!

 

Are you sterotyping my people?

The Irish are great, luv.

 

I is the bouncer in this den

of writers and musicians

well yeah,

and friends and luvahs,

until

they aren’t.

 

The Irish are worth a throw

we’ll add some Celtic drums.

They go and they go and they go,

and they love us all,

the fighters, the dreamers

the bards and the bums.

Crossposted from my primary blog:

http://oursalon.ning.com/profiles/blogs/new-poem-kinch-bellies-up-to-the-bar?commentId=6524927%3AComment%3A50828&xg_source=msg_com_blogpost