May 1
"BEWARE THE DONALL DEMPSEY MY SON!"
the frog slid
slowly down
my throat
its legs sticking out of
my mouth...
still kicking
the world
was running away
into the final darkness
my eyes were robbed
of trees and sun
the day being stolen from me
"Death by frog!"
how unlikely
a dying
the bullies all
short-trousered
lads like me
the moment sculpted
from the sunlight
of 1963
then either the frog gave
a desperate last minute kick
or I silently yelled
and expelled
friend frog who
having escaped death
by swallowing
hopped it
lost itself in the long grass
perhaps the horrible tale
of down-the-gullet
is told still
to its descendants
far removed from
that sunny day.
"Better watch out..." Mamma Frog
would make her voice shiver
making her little tiddlers tremble
with trepidation
"...or the Donall Dempsey
will get you!"
*
I was having a bad day....nothing going my way....but still Kim Moore managed to wring this out of me in her wonderful writing workshop. She applied a Chinese burn to my mind and out popped this in a seven and a half minute sprint of the mind. I was halfway through reliving the trauma of a frog being shoved down my throat to gales of laughter when I suddenly thought "What about the poor frog? How did he cope?"
What did he tell the other frogs and how in the world of frogs it became the tallest of tall tales and my name entered the lexicon of frog horror stories that have been passed down through generations of frog families despite being the innocent victim! All the frog heard in its terrification was my name chanted over and over again in great grievous glee "Ha ha ha...Donall Dempsey!"
Me and friend frog were in this tormenting together. But despite all this my name has gone down in frog history as if I were a Grendel or a Grendel's mother or a Jabberwocky. Just say Donall Dempsey and see what the reaction is...faster than a Basho plop and splash.
Still have nightmares about it! Another time they took off my pants and I had to run all the way home bottomless. In memory no one can hear you scream.
But no one thought of the poor frog...except me. I hope he didn't think bad of me...it wasn't my fault.
Frog saved both our lives by kicking free....his own and mine as I was being held down and could struggle. He saved me from choking on him and I probably gave one last choking cough to expel him from inside of me.
When in France I couldn't even look at a frog's leg without choking.
Ahhh but a bullied frog in the throat is worth a poem in the mind. Both friend frog and myself surviving to tell the tale.
the frog slid
slowly down
my throat
its legs sticking out of
my mouth...
still kicking
the world
was running away
into the final darkness
my eyes were robbed
of trees and sun
the day being stolen from me
"Death by frog!"
how unlikely
a dying
the bullies all
short-trousered
lads like me
the moment sculpted
from the sunlight
of 1963
then either the frog gave
a desperate last minute kick
or I silently yelled
and expelled
friend frog who
having escaped death
by swallowing
hopped it
lost itself in the long grass
perhaps the horrible tale
of down-the-gullet
is told still
to its descendants
far removed from
that sunny day.
"Better watch out..." Mamma Frog
would make her voice shiver
making her little tiddlers tremble
with trepidation
"...or the Donall Dempsey
will get you!"
*
I was having a bad day....nothing going my way....but still Kim Moore managed to wring this out of me in her wonderful writing workshop. She applied a Chinese burn to my mind and out popped this in a seven and a half minute sprint of the mind. I was halfway through reliving the trauma of a frog being shoved down my throat to gales of laughter when I suddenly thought "What about the poor frog? How did he cope?"
What did he tell the other frogs and how in the world of frogs it became the tallest of tall tales and my name entered the lexicon of frog horror stories that have been passed down through generations of frog families despite being the innocent victim! All the frog heard in its terrification was my name chanted over and over again in great grievous glee "Ha ha ha...Donall Dempsey!"
Me and friend frog were in this tormenting together. But despite all this my name has gone down in frog history as if I were a Grendel or a Grendel's mother or a Jabberwocky. Just say Donall Dempsey and see what the reaction is...faster than a Basho plop and splash.
Still have nightmares about it! Another time they took off my pants and I had to run all the way home bottomless. In memory no one can hear you scream.
But no one thought of the poor frog...except me. I hope he didn't think bad of me...it wasn't my fault.
Frog saved both our lives by kicking free....his own and mine as I was being held down and could struggle. He saved me from choking on him and I probably gave one last choking cough to expel him from inside of me.
When in France I couldn't even look at a frog's leg without choking.
Ahhh but a bullied frog in the throat is worth a poem in the mind. Both friend frog and myself surviving to tell the tale.
