The Outhouse

[Bob Pacey]

I'm currently working on a new book after the success of " Bullshit, Bulldust And Bob "

Was scrolling through my poem list and rediscovered this which was the first performance poem I wrote and which by the way still gets the same reaction today.

I checked and I posted it way back in 2011 but thought it was worth sharing again.

THE OUT HOUSE

For many years they had the pan it really served them well
But the son had never liked the thing he couldn't stand the smell.
We should put one inside the house ! he muttered every other day
On those cold nights in winter it would really pay it's way.

But his dad would never waver so he then hatched up a plan
I'll blow the bloody dunny up and along with it the pan.
So later on that evening he laid the dynamite
Then hid behind a log and rubbed his hands with sheer delight.

Just then from out the back door his dad burst at a full run
Caught short whilst in the kitchen oh it really wasn't fun.
He shouted out a warning that the fuse was on the go
But dad was just to far away, he didn't want to know.

The out house door slammed shut behind as dad now sought relief
The son he found some cover quick and thought about his grief.
Well the blast was quite horrendous for it shook the ground around
Dad staggered from the rubble but then quickly went to ground.

At his side his son was fast to be he nursed his fathers head
He surely thought that such a blast would find his old man dead.
But his fathers eyes were open though his look was most forlorn
His son then sighed in pure relief he would not have to mourn.

Are you ok dad ? he enquired, please say something to me
I need to know that your ok a spark of life to see.
I'm ok son his dad replied although I've hurt me head
But if I'd dropped that in the kitchen son we'd all be bloody dead.


BOB PACEY ( C )
21/8/98

[Neville Briggs]

I can see that you determined to post intellectual stuff.

[Bob Pacey]

Humerous or serious Nev I can do em both

Cheers Bob

[Maureen K Clifford]

an oldie but still a goody

[Bob Pacey]

What Do ya Reckon ?


Bob

[alongtimegone]

Ha ha! That's a good one Bob...especially the last line. I've got a fishing mate who I swear keeps a stick of gelignite between his cheeks. Your poem reminded me of a very old joke.
Wazza

A young boy lights a big bunger on guy fawkes night and tosses it through the gap between the out house door and its roof. Later the boy's father addresses his children and asks "Who threw the firecracker into the dunny?" The guilty child says "I cannot tell a lie father. It was I."
The father then takes off his belt and gives the boy a hiding. Tearfully, the boy says "But father, you told me that when George Washington was a boy and owned up to chopping down the cherry tree, his father forgave him because he was truthful."
"That's right," he said "but George Washington's father wasn't in the cherry tree at the time."