28 February 2011

Potato Wedges

me mates ‘Podger’ ‘n ‘MonĂ©t’ visited
today with gorgeous Helen who makes
ordinary doggy expeditions a happening;
orright, Podge lost the plot in an all bluff
display of Jack Russell intimidation while
Money (his real name) took to slobbering

seems I’m their heir apparent adopted –
a bloke they sort of cotton onto when shit
hits the fan in a paucity of maleness, that’s
not to say their patron Saint ain’t a beaut
Sheila, bless me fancy socks, but a dog’s
gotta be a real dog, don’t cha know

so me ‘n the boys showed ‘er how blokes
make hay, so to speak, ‘n we sorted all
those tetchy things which leave knots in
the hair or bumps in the way easily – they
each got a piece of focaccia for lunch with
a concealed frown for dessert, I guess

as a celebration I’m making roast potato
wedges herbed to Hell and gone with garlic
seasoning – it says what needs to be said
for the pork chops are still rather vague,
or might have been Pad Thai, and then I’d
be left explaining why they didn’t get any
© 15 November 2010, I. D. Carswell