Doom and the pastry fork…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s unusual pencil sharpener is the one shaped like a summer breeze.

When I popped into the art gallery cafe yesterday afternoon I quickly became aware of the presence of a group of very old and very loud (perhaps some of them were hard of hearing?) ladies and gentlemen sitting around a small table in the corner of the room. After I paid for my tea and bun at the counter, I headed for a table as far away from them as possible and I sat down.
Suddenly there was a noisy outburst of ancient croaky voices from their direction; it was sprinkled with very strong expletives – it really was quite shocking. I glanced across and discovered the cause of the trouble; the old folks had been joined, probably uninvited, by Simon Doom, poet from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League. He was banging the table with his fist in time with the staccato rhythm of the syllables of one of his spoems (spoof poems) that he was reading out to them in a doleful voice. I was just in time to see a frail-looking ginger bearded old chap stick a pastry fork into Doom’s forearm. Doom sprang up with a clatter of crockery and cutlery and headed for the door, he spotted me on the way and without saying anything tossed the piece of grubby paper with his spoem on it onto my table as he swept past. I smiled as I noticed that he was rubbing his arm as he went…

Jassy floomugs umptoss ak-ak-ak.
Poppajob tem tem whop sixto!
Mandelandle chumice wem-wem donk.
Sixto albanasta, bolbom bolbom!

Fuffin-doon doon-mott aarm-am.
Pomma-lomma wodge feff sixto!
Zumbite tuth wollig hoomspo.
Sixto andarbax, nun-nun-blo-tox!

Tangtug delvbow monstar ogg.
Themmel-bot gomate room-attic sixto!
Doshile bolmon bolmon chiddy.
Sixto azzacoil, muph-muph choop!

Jassy floomugs cylento uk-uk-uk.
Nizzi-nazzi bunbum acklam sixto!
Pavavalot swee-swee mongerdick.
Sixto alleraddle, muk-muk da-da pheb!

Simon Doom 2015.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in art, brain, drama, dreaming, Dulltown, existentialism, expletives, Hull.UK., humour, information, observations, poetry, style, surrealism, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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