She Who Knows All...A Poem by David Lewis PagetMy wife has a mind like a steel trap, There’s nothing escapes her view, It must be something that women share When they say, ‘Here’s looking at you!’ It’s not just meant as a friendly toast But more of a warning shot, Whatever you’ve done is filed away Whether you want it or not! You can call it gossip or call it chat, You can call it scratch my itch, Whenever they get together, the talk Gets round to ‘that crazy b***h!’ They can reel off generations of flaws In a genealogical line, And point out where the family trees Inextricably intertwine. ‘That was Margaret Bloom’s old place Before she married Ted Gray, He’d dumped his wife and their seven kids So he could go off and play. When his wife went into the Nursing Home Then Ted was filled with remorse, He asked, was anything he could do, Then the b*****d shot her horse!’ ‘Was that the woman who…?’ ‘Yes, she did! She danced on the bar at noon, Nobody thought she drank that much ‘Til that Easter afternoon. She said it must have been chocolate frogs As she’d never done it before, Those ones that have the liqueurs in them, But she’d only eaten four.’ ‘I seem to recall…’ ‘Her sister, yes! Now wasn’t she just a tramp! She had it off with the postman, Harv, And the one who carries the lamp!’ ‘You mean the…’ ‘No, not him, you fool, He was as gay as a tent, An all-in wrestler choked that one On the very first day of Lent.’ ‘Old Mrs. Mopps…’ ‘Yes wasn’t that sad, She drowned in the water tank, Trying to rescue her grandson’s boat, He pushed her in as it sank.’ ‘Not her, I meant…’ ‘Oh the other one, The Mopps from Slimy Top? The one that poisoned her husband with The home-made sweets from her shop!’ ‘I thought…’ ‘ You don’t, you never observe You men are as thick as a brick, You didn’t pick up the cues when Jean Went home with our candlestick.’ ‘I didn’t think…’ ‘No you never do, You leave it all up to God, She went and set fire to her mother’s house, May she rest in peace, poor sod!’ ‘I find it hard to believe…’ ‘You do, You’ve never quite understood, We live in a den of iniquity In this general neighbourhood. I saw that Betty, ogling you In the bar last Friday night, And I walked right up and I told her, too, ‘I know you’re flying a kite.’ ‘She backed right off…’ ‘But I didn’t know, It’s nothing to do with me!’ ‘Well don’t get any ideas, my lad, I’m not going to set you free.’ We sat in the kitchen, me bemused, I said, ‘That Betty’s a liar!’ The wife just glowered, until I said: ‘The chicken’s just caught on fire!’ David Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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13 Reviews Added on April 20, 2013 Last Updated on April 20, 2013 Tags: genealogical, warning, wrestler, chicken Author
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