Museum Manoeuvres
Listen to David read his poem ...
Mum wouldn’t buy me those plesiosaur pants,
‘Won’t get them, darling, not even a chance,
don’t need them, what’s more they cost quite a lot‒
big boy like you’ and such mummy-rot,
so we fingered some books in the shop
until she was tired and ready to drop.
Next time, Dad took me, it started to rain
and water squelched into my trainers again,
I cried till snot dribbled out of my nose,
squeezed off my trainers and wiggled my toes,
‘Help me, Daddy!’, I said. ‘Don’t let me catch flu,
I’ll die from a cold and then Mum will blame you!’
Dad was now worried, I made my next move,
as passing the shop I gave him a shove.
‘Dad’ I said, ‘look, quick, behind those old rocks!’
So now you can check out my stegosaur socks.
‘Won’t get them, darling, not even a chance,
don’t need them, what’s more they cost quite a lot‒
big boy like you’ and such mummy-rot,
so we fingered some books in the shop
until she was tired and ready to drop.
Next time, Dad took me, it started to rain
and water squelched into my trainers again,
I cried till snot dribbled out of my nose,
squeezed off my trainers and wiggled my toes,
‘Help me, Daddy!’, I said. ‘Don’t let me catch flu,
I’ll die from a cold and then Mum will blame you!’
Dad was now worried, I made my next move,
as passing the shop I gave him a shove.
‘Dad’ I said, ‘look, quick, behind those old rocks!’
So now you can check out my stegosaur socks.
This poem is copyright (©) David Bleiman 2024
About the Writer
David Bleiman
David is a grandfather and poet living in Edinburgh. He loves to write across the languages and his first pamphlet, This Kilt of Many Colours (Dempsey & Windle, 2021) is a multilingual mixter-maxter in English, Scots, Spanish and Yiddish. This celebration of David's Jewish heritage includes the prizewinning Trebbler's Tale, written in a partly excavated but largely reimagined lost dialect of Scots-Yiddish. With the sense of humour of an overgrown schoolboy, David is now writing childish poems for himself and other children.
