Old Git – A Poem

My poetic alter-ego has been at it again…

Doggerel Miscellany of Dr Solomon Doornails

This is a very short poem I wrote in December 2011 about an old man in a pub who was glaring at everyone around him.

My corner is my country,
This table, sacred space,
And I’ll tell you to piss off
With the stare upon my face.

I glare at those who are near,
And who come a bit too close,
With a bit of added sneer
With which I use my nose.

Crusted, wrinkled tobacco skin,
Bely a covered life of sin.
Mistletoe wilting at my sight,
Children crying at my fright

And as quickly as you noticed me,
I’ve put on my flatcap
To stagger down my road
In time to feed the cat.

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About Chris

He may look very complicated, but he is in fact very simple. He runs on sausages and beer. Co-founder of Eating Exeter. Librarian at Exeter College.
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