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Mr. Jewel's Antique and Clock Mending Shop
larrylark

Old Harry spent his days round at Mr Jewel’s
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antique, bric a brac, nick nack paddy wack,
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old dog and bone, watch, clock and tick tock
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menders, returning to sender sound and true, unless he’s
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been on a bender the night before and wasn’t good as new
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There they sat with the clocks going cuckoo, Mr. Harry
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talking about the old days and Old Jewelly chiming in
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with his interesting thoughts about where vultures migrate to in Autumn
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and why Mrs Spleen was a flighty bint and tinted her hair green
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every spring though it never mounted to more than a birds nest
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with a straw hat precariously perched and a pair of diamante
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encrusted macaw shaped ear rings dragging on her lobes, given, she said,
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by a lord, but almost certainly  a sailor blown onto shore,
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searching for any  port to shelter from a storm.
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The tide of time came in and went out as Harry shuffled back and forth
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with steaming tea, raising dust that settled on the delicate mechanisms of
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his memory where fact floated out to fiction and back again. As dusk settled
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Mr Jewel would always say “Nip down Donachy’s and get me a bottle on tick,
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I’ve a feeling it might be closing time and I need a nip.”
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Though you could never really tell, by searching among faces
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of a his cock eyed clocks chiming towards eternity
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Dog and bone- cockney rhyming slang for phone
bint- a lady of dubious virtue
tick- credit offered by shops
paddy wack-a liverpudlian Irishman

31 Mar 11


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Comments:

nice. amazing flow. Ed
 — unknown

Thanks Ed
 — larrylark

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