ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

A work in progress but the grey nomads like it so far.

The trouble With Sex

I brought this ginger cattle dog
A bloody beauty too
Intelligent and quick to learn
He cost a bob or two.

Now I'm not much for normal names
Like Lassie, Blue or Rex
I wanted something different
So I named my new dog "Sex"

I never thought that such a name
Would get me into strife
That’s until I met this Sheila
And took her for my wife.

Cause we moved into the city
Where there's cars and lots of smog
And I found the local council
Make you register your dog.

Well I fronted to the council office
But all the forms were so complex
I told the clerk behind the counter
I like a license mate, for Sex.

Don’t we bloody all “ He said!
He just didn’t have a clue
I said I've had unlicensed Sex for quite a while
He muttered “lucky bloody you“.

Well I finally got Sex registered
But all my woes had just begun
I became so attached to Sex
He was almost like a son.

So when I took my wedding vows
I wanted Sex to be a part of it
I said “I like Sex right here in the church”
Well the priest near had a fit.

I said “but father Sex is all I live for
No Sex would leave me in the lurch
And my family all love Sex too”
Then he chucked us out of church.

So we got married at the registry
Then went on our honeymoon
But when I tried to book accommodation
We couldn't get a room.

I need a double for my wife and me
And a room for Sex mate too
He said there's a king sized in every room
So that’ll have to do.

I said “But you don’t understand”
Sex keeps me up all night
He muttered lucky bastard
You don't have to bloody skite.

Then one day I read this advert
For dogs to make a TV show
So I went along to the auditions
But you wouldn't want to know.

Sex slipped his lead off in the studio
He grabbed his toy for me to throw
Then he lost it in amongst the props
And we used it in our show.

Then some fella called security
Cause I was digging through his gear
The guard asked what ya looking for?
Then he grabbed me by the ear.

I said "I'm looking for a toy for Sex
And it’s almost curtain call
I want to have Sex on the TV"
And then he threw us out into the mall.

My wife got so upset with Sex
She finally packed her bags and went
So I had to front the judge
To sort the minutes of consent.

Well I got custody of Sex
The Judge said my case was pretty strong
He said to still have Sex was strange
After being married for so long.

And bloody Sex keeps running off
He did one night in town
So I went off looking for him
In just my dressing gown.

I was searching down this alley
When a copper shone his light
What was I doing wandering round?
In the middle of the night.

I said I'm out looking for Sex mate
Then he grabbed me by the cheek
I'll give ya flaming Sex he said
Ya bloody pervert sneak.

My case was heard the next week.
I was deemed a danger so no bail
And Sex was taken to the pound
While I was locked in jail

They asked me all these questions
They thought I’d been cursed by some strange hex
They said I really needed help
Cause all I talked about was sex.

So they sent me to this Psychiatrist
To help me get my life together
I told him Sex was always in my life
But now he’s gone forever.

He made me do a heap of tests
That I had to answer on reflex
But every time he asked a question
I just wrote the answer Sex

He stood there and he looked at me
His mouth went all-agog
He said “Mate Sex is just not everything
Why don't you get yourself a Dog“?

Bob Pacey ( C )

love it - Your stresses and meter are all over the place like a drovers dog but having good fun

I had a mate who called his dog Boofter - he had similar problems - his dog was also black and my mate was once heard running up the street calling out ' Boofter get back here you big black b***ard". That made the neighbours sit up and take notice.

Cheers

Maureen

There are various levels of looking at a poem Bob.

The level of story line. As a story I think it would go well as a fun piece for performance.

On the level of construction however, the organising principle of the poem is the metre, not the sense.
You have started off in the first stanza using a set iambic stress/syllabic pattern. I suggest that you read out loud the first stanza then read out loud the second stanza. Read out loud the first stanza again then read out loud the third stanza, and so on.
Try and hear how the metre is maintained or varies in a way that you do not intend.

It's a tedious process but I use it to try and check the metric construction.

( unless of course that there are variations that you intended )

Bob, Bob, Bob! You never fail to amuse. Thanks for my daily dose of laughter.

Heather

Maureen and Neville one thing you will find with me is I do not stress. Most of what I write is for fun or performance so most of the time you are lucky if you get a full stop. Kym has said she will run her eye and red mark any that I want tidied up but I performed it on last wednesday night and had them laughing so much so that a few were crying.

Might tidy it up if i get time but at the monent I'm off on another project learning Boto and The ANZAC ON The WALL.


As you can see I get bored pretty quickly.

Life is too short for iambic or any other type of stresses at the monent.

Cheers Bob

Good for you Bob. Sounds as though you are very laid back sort of a bloke.

Heather

Couldn't agree with you more Bob - life is far too bloody short - only got to look at Japan and NZ to realize that.

Good on ya Bob,

a perfect illustration than you can have a laugh about sex without using offensive language.
I agree with Maureen, your stresses have no consistent pattern but the poem is a load of fun. It is not the type of thing you would send in to a competition so go for it. I can see a load of travellers round a campfire, falling off their chairs laughing. Hope you have taken out that Public Liability Insurance the ABPA offers us.

Thanks Zondrae. Like most poems it's all in the delivery and a bit of preamble really gets them going.

Thaks Bob

..Your'e a bloody Charcter Bob...you crack me up!