A thriving port
A declining port
A potential port
Cliches

A dockland
A wasteland
A stones throw
From my home

A docker
A carter
A clark
No vacancy

USA
EEC
A History
Our dockland

A grain store
A butter mountain
A starving world
An unused fountain

A dock village
A flower show
No work for
A dockland

copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011

Since moving back to Ireland
from sunny Provence, I have
become somewhat anxious
about our hidden pots of gold.

I met a Leprechaun in Mallow
yesterday who told me that all
the holes in the road, were due
to trial digs by The World Bank.

Cork County Council are waiting
for an EEC grant before they even
consider backfilling them, for now,
they are being used as bird baths.

It couldn't get any better,
Minolta's flagship  XM system is launched,
Gotta have it with Kodachrome 64 ! Meanwhile
Fruupp have their "The Prince of Heaven's Eyes"
Ted Heath's  "U" turn has unravelled  
and the Liverbirds are on the pill,
for some the revolution is complete.
There's next year before the EEC referendum
with the chance to make the right  decision.
I'll never forget my Dad's yellow
"Ford Cortina" before the Datsun
become a better prospect.
Roll on Kolchak Nightstalker
you're Chicago's last saviour.
United Nations resolution 366
has something  to say
about South West Africa.
But at least  Jessica Harper was
"Special to  Me".

What I can say for certain, is,
Irish weather is more predictable
today, than it ever was.

Since we joined the EEC and
switched to metric, it rains 4
times a day now, instead of 3.

It is an Irish Pine.
Theresa May has
ordered one ton.

EEC leaders think
she is about to offer
a new form of Brexit.

A cheval is being built
in one of the Cinque
Ports, not Dover, Deal.

If this Trojan Horse
is not accepted, she
is going to Hythe.

I attended school in the latter
mid of this last century.

It was even before Ireland
went into the EEC.

We were almost 100% Catholic
back then, and no foreigners.

None of us had ever seen a
black person, we had no TV.

Yet, on every counter top was
a box collecting for black babies.

Our town was called Magh Allah
in Irish, yet we'd no idea of Arabic.

Only twelve miles away, there was
another town with a Muslim name.

It is called Kan Turk, though Baltimore
Cork was sacked by Algerians 16th C.

Still, there was not a trace of a Minaret
anywhere, round towers yes, no Mosques.

All of this I found confusing, because our
teacher was called Maw Shea De Hulla.

World Cup, Brits out
EEC - Just about.

Northern Ireland
Wait and see!

The Empire’s gone
Tee Hee Hee.

Hidden behind the clouds
someone is watching us
through binoculars as we
begin our new year with
a visible catch.

Let the wishes begin.

The French are looking for
free hand outs from the EEC,
no work, pension age brought
back to 16, which would coincide
with official school leaving age.

The British don't want to loose
their mile, pound or Sovereign,
thus decided to leave the school
yard because the Germans have
got possession of the ball.

Kim Jong Un has decided, that
the Irish of Asia are not going to
be pushed around by W.A.S.P.s
from Washington D.C.

Jacinda Ardern has declared
Christchurch the fake ******
capital of New Zealand.

Australia have lifted the smoking
ban in  bars, restaurants and on Internal
QANTAS flights under 26,000 feet altitude.

The Republic of Ireland's
Metaphorical Millenium Needle
on O'Connell Street has been
successful in deflating the
corresponding Dome at UK
Docklands.

            Druid Chef's.

Where West, each wind is born
Mischievous Gaels, with pots
of vapoured broth,
Disperse its brew, and laced
with ancient potions,
Concoct a drape to cloak
The Saxon Horde.

                  <>

Let their BREXIT begin.

" A Silent Fury comes
   to haunt, a deserving
offspring of another age ".


Ps.

Trudeau is about to change
the countries name due to a
symbiosis of the Maple Leaf's
image and that of Cannabis.

FICTION.

Imagine driving up to a
forecourt of a filling station
where, for some bazaar
reason, there's only one
pump but it is not marked,
whether it is petrol or diesel.

You are aware though, what
your car functions on.
There are four males in
pristine uniforms standing
there waiting to serve you.

So, you enquire of one,
"Is the pump petrol or diesel" ?
The first attendant replies:
I don't know, does it matter?

Again you ask, is there anyone
I could enquire from, to be sure?
The second one replies this time:
"You could go on line and find out".
You respond,"I have no time for that now".

The third attendant gets involved.
"If you come back tomorrow, the
owner will be here and you can ask".
So, you try to explain that you want
it now, because you are going to a
funeral in 15 minutes.

The fourth attendant comes up with
a suggestion.
"If I squirt some on the ground, could
you tell the difference" ?
                    <>

                  FACT

I walked into a coffee shop and for
some bazaar reason the bean dispenser
did not display whether it was Arabica
or Robusta.

I have an educated palate and know
well which of the two is my preferred
choice. There were four females in pristine
uniforms waiting to serve me.

So, I enquired, of one, is this coffee
Arabica or Robusta?
The first waitress replies,
" I don't know, does it matter " ?

Again I asked, is there anyone
I could enquire from, to be sure?
The second one replies this time:
"You could go on line and find out"
I responded, "I have no time for that now".

The third waitress gets involved.
"If you come back tomorrow, the
owner will be here and you can ask".
So, I tried to explain that I wanted
it now, because I was going to a
funeral in 15 minutes.

The fourth waitress comes up with
a suggestion.
"If I spill beans on the counter, could
you tell the difference" ?

                    <>

This is an accurate account of an
incident I experienced yesterday.
Also, I would like to add, I once
owned a cafe,  had a coffee club
but more importantly, I do not use
sugar, therefore Robusta can be
vile and bitter on the palate, if one
is not having it in tandem with
sweet cake or desert. Whereas, an
Arabica, though less caffeine, is
a much softer taste.
But Ireland is a tea drinking nation
and despite being EEC pseudo
continentals since the 70s
somethings can never be changed.

The Brits were right, get
out of Europe and close
its border with Brussels.

The Virus is sprouting
as EEC members begin to
contradict their mandate.

Open borders, free travel
between member countries
is all coming to a unified halt.

Good riddance to the French
and their 231 year attempt at
socialism.

Their yellow peril made little
impact on Macron who is now
setting up an authoritarian state.

Le Droit D'Homme no longer
exists, they now need a letter
to leave their homes.

Quelle race de merde, a white
A4 their symbol of surrender.
Encore.

If Brussels gave permission for
the Mannequin Pis to backstop,
(Phallitically Speaking) a Dutch
****, not only the #MeToo, but
every organisation purporting
to buttress women's rights in the
EEC, would be up in arms at the
mere suggestion of a temporary
solution, to an ongoing situation,
as we have between Arlene Foster
of the North and Leo Varadkar in
the Republic of Ireland who is
known for his ability to facilitate!

A EUYO is the bungie version of
the 28 EEC tithed member states.
All are all umbilically connected
to a Boomerang centre in Brussels
where they are permitted to orbit
but are never allowed to deviate or
escape its gravitational pull which
has become more magnetic since
The Untied Kingdom availed of a
rare opportunity and went AWOL.

Global warming has just
been downgraded to a
lesser issue, Coronavirus
is now in number one spot.

Greta Thunberg is furious,
said it is a Chinese plot to
camouflage the crisis which
no one but herself agrees with.

World war three has moved
up the charts with US & Israel
doing a duet in lead vocals
shouting down the Ayatollah.

Brexit is about to be removed
as the European audiences
expressed their feelings of
saturation over the issue.

Impeachment is again another
over played record that many
disc jockeys felt was scratched
and jumping about on the needle.

Harry & Meghan were sacrificed
in order to save the Palace further
embarrassment over their *******,
this tale is not even in the top ten now.

Yellow Vests have been moved by the
Brits, talks of a referendum on EEC
membership has just entered at 20,
but could move up to one shortly.

Pasta mañana Brussels
fuori gli italiani. EEC
is about to be Faraged.

Al Dente Nigel will be
preparing the sauce for
a very special Spag's It.

.               Sans Frontiers            .

Covid 19 joined Schengen.
                 Freedom of movement in
all EEC countries.
       Enfin. ultimate liberty, equality
to all the fraternity.
                Now that The Do Ron Ron
has banned The Hijab,
     breath deeply "You La La French".

Doesn't matter, it rains
mostly every day and
there isn't a road in
Ireland where farmers
don't use, to clean tractor
tyres before going home
to their yards.

I work at a truck wash, we
have to keep them looking
nice now, we're in the EEC.

No more ***** hanging off
the wheel arches dropping
on the streets like turds
from rear ends of horses.

A lorry arrived in with an
unfinished message fingered
on the door. I got to thinking.

It could have been a Haiku or
the beginnings of a poem that
someone started at the traffic
lights but no time to complete.

It seemed a shame to wash it
off, truncated due to a flashing
green man, so I decided to add
an ending, after the graffiti artists
three lines, immediately below.

                      <>

WASH ME PLEASE BUT SAVE
AS MUCH AS YOU CAN OF
WHAT I'M ABOUT TO WRIT
  
     because dirt shows up
   those of value and those
  who are good for nothing!

The Brits are officially
out of the EU but all
other nations '******
off' because once more
The United Kingdom
is leading the way for
scared member states
to man up and follow.

1st Feb up, the French.
Macron wants a EEC
army, so he is doing a
trial run in Paris with
mercenaries against
yellow vests, farmers
and trade unionists.

Meanwhile, Ireland
condones it, M. Martin
the potential next leader
of government has
suggested supporting
Macrons vision for
Europe, Black and Tans
on the streets of Dublin.

Cross + Mahon

It is perched on a hill like
Calvary you are, thankfully
There are no Romans, even
Though we are in the EEC.

Sure they’d open a Pizza
Place given the chance
And Deliveroo would be
Out and about on bicycles.

A better destiny awaits you,
If only Buchailli Bowe got on
On his four legged friend
And sang a Roy Rogers song.

Ah, the sellers, but buyers
Are worse, especially that
D.A.F.T. ******* from Mallow
braking my saddle sore ****.