Hitch
A throbbing disco bass
callously pounding my chest,
turning symptoms of flu
into something feeling serious.
I’d dragged myself there
against good advice,
that trashy little down in Drab County
whose only claim to fame
was its fine timber spire,
which made historians
and architects alike, drool;
the sort of town which made
the English feel proud of their past,
even if the present bore no hope,
no prospect of colour. A future
And pride! What was I doing
knocking back gin like tomorrow
did not exist?
Barely able to stand—
but still lord of the dance!
But it was you who held the cards,
the full deck.
You knew what you wanted
and how to get it.
I was the hopeless case,
a clueless pawn in your set up
with worldly guys from the Smoke
who were waiting by the door,
(forever waiting by that door!)
deriding us country boys—
but
this
country boy
knew enough about language
of the body, its gestures.
The cold morning brought eerie clarity,
despite pain in my head
to match the dagger in the heart. Oh—
you could keep your magnanimous lift.
I was hitching back.
The full seventeen miles,
even if only the bravest of drivers
would dare stop to pick up
this jerk
in the sick stained jeans
poem and image © copyright df barker 2012
very cool and raw poem david..love the..Barely able to stand—
but still lord of the dance!… and then…think it was the right decision..and still suffering a bit from the flu…i can feel this even more..
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Oww poor you! I think you had better stayed in bed?
The Smoke sounds like the sort of place I remember from that era lol 🙂
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Hi Ina, thank you very much! The smoke is certainly how everywhere was then, wasn’t it. ‘The Smoke’, in this case, is a nick name for London.
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Thank you very much Claudia! Hope you’re soon better – I’ve got a bad head this morning…! 🙂
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🙂 LOL it would make a good name for a café 🙂 in those days 🙂 I love the poem 🙂 and now I understand it better I think, the country boy in the big city!
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Nice work David, we Aussies call our city’s “The big smoke” it looks like us english convicts got the expression from the english!. 🙂
David. L
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Oh this is just wonderful David!
What a vivid image! Yuk!! I can even smell the sick! 🙂
Christine
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Ah, thank you so much David! And yes, as you know, we English are to blame… for everything! 😉
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Thank you Christine! Thankfully, this is only partly based on fact but I too can still smell it!
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It is a good name, isn’t it? Thanks Ina – I’ll remember that, when we open it next year we’ll invite you over. Do you like cakes? 🙂
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Great poem. Very relatable — the whole club scene, drinking and dancing through smoke. Good job! 🙂
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I’ve been there- Drab County and drunk as a skunk!
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I hope you’ll feel better soon David! Nice poetry even if you’re not well. 🙂
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My friend i received a nomination for the “One Lovely Blog Award”, am in turn nominating you! Nothing to do just accept! You can share with someother authors whom you really like. Your poems and their images are very uplifting to myself and countless others. Some bad days your poems lift my spirits, and on good days they shine like a radiant Sun! I love your gifts, your blog and what i have learned from your heart and sprit! Congatulations!
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Thank you very much!
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Thank you very much Russell!
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Thank you very much Wendell, I appreciate it very much! 🙂
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Hi,
A great poem, and I am sure not too many would of even thought about giving this person a lift. 🙂 Sounds like a wild night.
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I’ve had plenty of cold mornings bringing eerie clarity, but never has it been so beautifully expressed as this one! Thank you David for this wonderful piece.
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Wonderful, David, and “sick stained jeans” is so vivid, maybe not so pleasant (the image and smell) :), but great writing!
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Once again you reference the changes in England as you remember it…and with the disappointment in the way it is changing. You’ve definitely heightened my awareness. This poem speaks of it, too, with the description of the “Drab County.” I felt like this was a movie scene…so vivid! Debra
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Thank you very much, I appreciate it!
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Thank you so much for reading and commenting on it, Lauren.
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Thank you Louise, I do appreciate it.
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Thank you so much! 🙂
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“What was I doing
knocking back gin like tomorrow
did not exist?
Barely able to stand—
but still lord of the dance!” – Hehe, this really made me smile David! Love it! 😀
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Thank you very much Eve!
Gross behaviour, isn’t it? The sort of thing my son does now in Hull…. I’m afraid.
Which reminds me, he was in Sheffield last weekend playing for Hull Uni in the Ice Hockey nationals, they got to the semis. They stayed up all night drinking in various Steel City locations, then somehow played more games on Sunday. Ah, well, that’s rock ‘n’ roll, I suppose. 😉 All the best!
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Very nice poem, thanks for sharing!
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Well-crafted, vivid poem, David. Couldn’t help but smile. 🙂
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Thank you very much Betty!
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Your son does Ice Hockey? That’s cool. 🙂 I’ve never even learned to skate… to my shame!
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Hi! Yes, he is a ‘sporty’ type and made up his mind to get everything out of university, which is fair enough. He’s thinking of joining a Peterborough Ice Hockey team when he gets back in the summer, although that may depend on what he’s doing, job wise etc… 🙂 Take care.
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Thank goodness the country boy is so fluent in reading “body language”! Reminds me of a once popular song here in the states: “A country boy can survive.” 🙂 And here we see a sick, drunk, barely-able-to-walk country boy doing just that!
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Why we do the things we do! A hot toddy and warm bed would’ve been better. As always, I love this narrative style of yours, with bite and humor!
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Once again, I thank you so much! 🙂
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Thank you so much once again – you are so kind! 🙂
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