Assigned reading (2½ pars [] plus 121 notes) [secondary] [McH]
"doublejoynted janitor" = Janus
"postman's knock" = kissing game
[if the seep were milk you could lieve his olde by his ide] sheetmusic
Kevin/Jerry is one version of the opposite brother-twins, Shaun/Shem. 'Kevin' refers to Ireland's St Kevin, depicted in one of the earliest FW vignettes. It's puzzling that he plays a kissing game (he's usually virginal) and writes on walls (Shem's the writer).
We get an unusually distinct depiction of the two Issies, "Hetty Jane" (ivy, chaste, white/gold) and "Essie Shanahan" (holly, naughty, red, 17 cites).
[You remember... Our... Were I a clerk] ♬ midi
[♬ whirligigmagees]
[cachucha]
[Dimitrius O'Flagonan... Clancartys]
FDV: "Hetty Jane's a child of Mary. And Essie Shanahan has let down her skirts. 'Twould delight your heart to see. Aisy now, you decent man, and lie quiet and repose your honour's lordship! I've an eye on queer Behan and Old Kate and the milk, trust me. And we put on your clock again, sir, for you."
mysteries: Glassarse
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All for the books
ReplyDeleteand never pegging smashers
after Tom Bowe-Glassarse or Timmy the Tosser.
'Tisraely the truth!
Now isn't it, roman pathoriks?
You were the doublejoynted janitor
the morning they were delivered
and you'll be a grandfer yet entirely
when the ritehand seizes what the lovearm knows.
Kevin's just a doat with his cherub cheek
and his little lamp and schoolbelt and bag of knicks,
chalking oghres on walls
and playing postman's knock round the diggings,
and if the seep were milk
you could lieve his olde by his ide.
But, laus sake, the devil does be in
that knirps of a Jerry sometimes,
the tarandtan plaidboy,
making encostive inkum out of the last of his lavings
and writing a blue streak over his bourseday shirt.
Hetty Jane's a Child of Mary.
She'll be coming (for they're sure to choose her)
in her white of gold with a tourch of ivy
to rekindle the flame on Felix Day.
And Essie Shanahan has let down her skirts.
You remember Essie in Our Luna's Convent?
They called her Holly Merry
her lips were so ruddy berry
and Pia de Purebelle
when the redminers' riots was on about her.
Were I a clerk designate
to the Williamswoods menufactors
I'd poster those pouters on every jamb in the town.
She's making her rep at Lanner's twicenightly.
With the tabarine tamtammers of the whirligigmagees.
Beats that cachucha flat.
'Twould dilate your heart to go.
Aisy now, you decent man, with your knees
and lie quiet and repose your honour's lordship!
Hold him there, Ezekiel Irons,
and may God strengthen you!
It's our warm spirits, boys, he's spooring.
Dimitrius O'Flagonan,
cork that cure for the Clancartys!
You swamped enough since Portobello
to float the Pomeroy.
Fetch neahere, Pat Koy!
And fetch nouyou, Pam Yates!
Be nayther angst of Wramawitch!
Here's lumbos.
Where misties swaddlum,
where misches lodge none,
where mystries pour kind on, O sleepy!
So be yet!
I've an eye on queer Behan and old Kate
and the butter, trust me.
She'll do no jugglywuggly
with her war souvenir postcards
to help to build me murial.
Tippers, I'll trip your traps!
Assure a sure there!
And we put on your clock again, sir, for you.
Did or didn't we, sharestutterers?
So you won't be up a stump entirely.
Nor shed your remnants.
The sternwheel's crawling strong.