Doom and the vegetables…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s unusual pencil sharpener is the one shaped like the sound of a golf ball dropping down a hole.

One of my favourite cafes is the one on the north-east side of the square called Saturday Market in the town of Beverley a few miles north of Dulltown; I think it’s called Saturday Market because they have a market there on Saturdays.
As I looked out of the front window of that cafe a couple of Saturdays ago, guzzling tea and nibbling a Belgian chocolate brownie, I notice an agitated crowd forming around one of the stalls, it was a fruit and veg stall. After a few moments I became aware of the flashing blue lights of a police van which was trying to make headway towards the disturbance. It jerked to a standstill and two overweight shaven-headed cops jumped out and waded through the jostling throng. I finished the remains of my tea and sauntered outside to find out what was up.
A big hairy, but friendly, red-faced farmer kindly explained that some jumped-up city poet had been asked by the proprietor of the stall to look after business for a few minutes while he went off to sort out some problem broccoli. The jumped-up poet who had had a few pints of ale in The White Horse (Nellie’s), instead of serving the customers, began reciting one of his recent works to the them in a loud and patronising voice. Apparently they didn’t think much of his performance and told him so in no uncertain terms. Things escalated, tomatoes, carrots, and cucumbers were thrown, in both directions, and some ineffectual blows were exchanged…
The perpetrator turned out to be, of course, my ‘friend’ Simon Doom, poet from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League. As he was eventually carried, screaming and still reciting as he went, to the police van by the two blank-faced cops, he spotted me on the pavement. He managed to throw me a copy of his ‘spoem’ (spoof poem) before the back doors slammed over his sweaty grinning face:

Papple scoom upthat wem diddamoi,
Dummel bux upthat kym plangobs.
Fagmost veagle psoom danky-danky,
Bogololmolol rhaspe flookery dex!

Emopta spinkle dockty wem diddamoi,
Feermee spox dockty wenwe doono.
Fagmost junitz parn octy-octy,
Oidmentalion frape doggle dux!

Hoppermoi gusp ferrit wem diddamoi,
Blutt sampee ferrit noibus-fyn.
Fagmost tunnymonny nunny-nunny,
Jhebonnaset soss motter pungin dix!

Tagranander buth septag wem diddamoi,
Pulg septer septag thething doop.
Fagmost plangobs quisp cuppy-cuppy,
Chellodyne knellage upthat dox!

Simon Doom 2017.

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...
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8 Responses to Doom and the vegetables…

  1. Jheron Bash says:

    Simon Doom. In Beverley. Blimey! He’s been arrested so many times he must be up in court next, surely? Common assault at least. Will you appear as a character witness?

  2. Dana Doran says:

    Very curious. In the vicinity of yet another arrest of Mr. Doom! You do get around, don’t you! Well, down with Doom! Of course, I am reminded, and rather sternly last evening – that my “opinion” doesn’t count, “it’s like pissing in the wind!!!” “Do you think that anything you do will affect the system you live in? No! Do you think anything you have to say on the subject will change the way the world works? No! These comments you make are a waste of time! You think because you vote you have power? It’s a game – you have no more choice in life than being born in the first place. Go paint!”

    • Dave Whatt says:

      Yes, that Doom person seems to be haunting, or perhaps ‘stalking’, me doesn’t he?
      Now then, who has been ‘stern’ with you Dana? Not me I hope, was it something I said?
      And me Vote? Ho ho ho!…
      Now then, who was it said, “Who ever you vote for the government always gets in…”?

      • Dana Doran says:

        Ah yes, a wise man indeed. I don’t know what I expected….all in my head, I suspect. Perhaps a tad more chardonnay…although, I am finding that second glass ungood without a cigarette – I quit for good not too long ago, but, I still fantasize ….that we could live without it, all the constructs, bobbing heads and such….thinkspeak.

  3. Claudia says:

    I’m sure this will be easier to understand once I’ve had a pint or two.

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