View from a Shop Doorway
December 2000
Copyright by Charles Henry
Stone me. . . Never fought I’d be out yer agen. . . Just afore Crismus an’ aw. . . . Bosses wife wern’it. . . She jest cou’nt cope wiv avin a gert ‘elfy ‘unk like I, doin ‘er evry biddin’, an nen sayin’ “no” wen she wanted a bit uv anky panky". . . . Don’t Laff! . . . I’n ‘avin ‘er fer sexual ‘arrissment. . . . It ‘wernt my fawt da boss aint got a ‘Good Saterday Nite’ left in un! . . . . . . I ‘ad ta get me dog back agen , but dey aw reccon diss lark don’t pay no more since Tony tawd evryone not ta give money no more. . . I’ve ad peeple offrin’ I chips an’ sanwidges, an’ aw stuff like dat. . . Thas no good . . . I shant ‘ang abowt out yer long fer aw dat nonsense. . . I wonts cash money don’t I.
Yer, . . av you ‘erd it aint safe goin ta ospittaw no more! . . . Dey reccons fousands a peeple er dyin’ frum bugs dey catches wen theym in nere. . . . Dey reccon deres dese sooper bugs wot if you catch um, . . dey aint got no cure! . . Dey’ll av ta sort dat out er peeple ‘ownt wanna go in dere, even if theym bad! . . Are Anty Lils bloke reccons fings wer alot bet’er wen dey ‘ad Matrins. . . Ee youst ta go cortin’ wiv a big bird oo wan’ed ta be a matrin. . . Ee says she wer a student I fink. . . Ee reccons she ‘ount let you do nuffink if you dint wash yer ‘ands proper first. . . Busty Beryl ee cawd ‘er. . . . . . . Ee dint ‘alf av clean ‘ands in dey days mine you!
Wot abowt aw dese killins an’ merders den. Some young bloke got beet up an killed down Weston way and up Lundun sum poor littaw immigrunt kiddo bleeds ta deff after sum bugger sticks a nife in is leg. Nen sum youngun gets killed down da town yer in Bristaw. . . Trubble is we’s got less coppers now dan we ‘ad two er free yers ago. . . . Its getting like you ownt feel safe nowhere nomore. . . Guvernment keeps on makin’ excuses, but dey can’t keep on blamin’ da tories fer everyfing. . . . . It’s gettin’ past a joke now.
Guvernment don’t like it cos Mr. ‘Ague ses ees gonna cut taxes. . . . Fing is aw dey gits oo wants taxes up is get’in payed too much any’ow, . . . . weem awready givin aw dey extra ta pay dere taxes, off are taxes. . . . Aw dey in White’all seems ta fink da tax sytem wer invented fer dey ta live like lords, wol aw we slaves, works away tryin ta scratch a livin’. . . Woss aw diss crap abowt Boom an’ Bust dey keeps on abowt, . . .’Aff da poor sods wot works on da land is desperate an goin bust, . . . oo da ‘ell da dey reccons gonna keep da countryside up tagevver wen theym aw gone?. . . Pratts like my bruvver! . oo fink its jus’ dere fer dey ta trapes around on?. . . .
Ee ‘ates me ya no, wen we wus kids ee youst ta fink babies cum frum da midwife. . . Ee used ta fink aw you ‘ad ta do wer fone er up, an nen one day she’d bring one wiv ‘er. . . Corse wen are muvver wer pregnant fer I , she tawd un she wer gonna av a ‘appy event an av anuvver baby!. . . Corse, ee tells da nurse not ta bring no boy ones or eed strangle it! . . . an nen a few days affter out pops I! . . . Wot?. . . are muvver sed ee wer dredfull, . . . she sed she coul’n't leave I alone wiv un fer more dan two yers!. . . an even nen ee tried ta stick a bicicle pump up me nose. . . . Eev ad a fing abowt bikes ever since.
In da ‘States, affter weeks un weeks uv, ‘Is it Mr.Gush, er Is it Mr. Bore’, it looks like Theym settlin’ fer Mr. Gush. . . . Jest us well reely. . . .Ol’ Dubyas ‘appily married an’ we can’t av no more a dat Toe Suckin’ an aw dat nonsunce in da White ‘Owse, now can we?. . . Dubya strings up aw dey murderin’ gits, an’ ee’ll make sure weem awrite if ever we needs any ‘elp wiv any forin’ geezers, . . . . . an thas wot reely ma’ters aint it.
