Great cadence in this dialect poem...thanks for the read.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
In a message dated 3/2/02 9:24:01 AM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< Tales at my Mother's Knee #3
Ah wu, niver cut aht fuh t' job in't fust place,
he sed, burah needed t'wuk
an' ah cud 'andil 'osses
an' ah figgered milk or coffins its same 'osses,
so ah tuk the job, fur a cupple of wiks onyroad.
Thay call'em all sorts nah,
funeral directors or summat lahk,
an wus in America, ah hear,
but back then it wah t'undertakers.
Cookson Brothuhs at t'end o't streeat.
'osses wi'black plumes on thur 'eeads
an' a luvly 'erse, all black and silver.
Luvely way to gooah!
Ah ed to weear a top 'at and t 'lot
an sit theer lukkin' proper miserable and respectful,
they even pahdered mi face white.
Aye, ah cud 'andle 'osses wi t'best on 'em, reet enuff
but shavin' a corpse, well, summah its not same thing.
Dust knaw, he sed,
certin things go on wukkin' aftuh tha's cocked thi clogs.
Noah, nawther did ah till ah 'ed tuh shave Simmy.
Yuh see thi beard gus on growin' after tha's clocked aht
so ah 'ad to shave 'em so they looked neat and reet
when they wuh laid aht in thu front rooms
an' thi stummick goes on wukkin', too, digestin' an that.
Ah wuh shavin' Simmy,
Simeon 'ardcastle, young Martin's granddad,
but sithee say nowt, doan't goah upsettin' fowks for noah reason,
but ah wuh shavin' 'im,
an' that wuh queer enuff withaht owt else,
an' 'e must ' ave et earty at 'is last meal
cos as ah leaned on his stummick
latherin' 'is jaw,
he belched, reet in mi face, a reet rift,
like a clap o'thunder,
ah felt t'wind on it on mi hand
a reet weird cowd breeze.
Well, jug o lather an t'brush wuh inta wun cornah
an' t'cut throwat inter t'other
an' ah wuh aht a theer lahk a greyahnd out on its trap.
As ah say ah ony wukkt theear a cupple a wiks.
ah mean 'andling 'osses is one thing
but shavin' bad-mannered corpses
as can't say pardin is anothuh.
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