Monday, 7 September 2015

Guest spot. Gruesome Galway grannie by Maria Manuela Cardiga


Bugger that mugger
He just ruined
My whole day!
He bled on my blouse
And I can't wash
That stain away?

Blood is just the worse!
I tell you I have cursed
That stupid boy
And that silly ploy
Of his to try
And steal my purse?
I have tried club-soda
And pure lye?
That reddish shade
Is here to stay...

He really is to blame-
Did he think
I'd just stand
And let him take
My knitting bag
And that whole swag
Of baby clothes
I'd been working on
For a year?
I'm too old for fear.
That old bag
With the skeleton face
Has held pride of place
At my table for years...
I'm 89 for Christ's sake!

So when he waved
That knife in my face?
You could say
His confidence
Was sadly misplaced-
I upped with
My knitting needle
Under his kirtle
And popped his pride
In a most painful place...

Last I saw him he was
Screaming and hollering
For his Mommy.
I took his wallet too.
Stupid jerk.
Let him go play berserk
With some other woman,
In some other place.
Here, in Galway,
We IRA pensioners,
We hold our space.

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