Linguistic country matters

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Linguistic country matters

An American in suspenders looks nothing
like an Englishman in braces:
he could be a Brookes Brothers Boston Brahman
buttoned down barrister blue striped suit and tie
with cunning little whales on the criss-cross straps
over the shoulder holding up his … pants
but why do you think the Yank is a guy?
Boy’s pants and braces covering her nipples
snap brings a tear to her eye
while the lawyer in suspenders
delights a crowd of benders
ripping at his velcro flies.
Over the ocean, knickers, knobs and knockers
have nothing to do with drawers,
every man has a fanny pack
racing at the dirt track,
rubbers avoid mistakes don’t correct them,
unless they are on a little boy
splashing in the puddles
and paddling an innocent canoe.
Knocking up a voter’s
gona get you deselected
and you wouldn’t want to quote her
on your red top
but a basket of bolonie handled by palone-omi
gets her panties in a bunch.
A lifter in the lobby has to explain his hobby
when the big girl’s blouse blows off
in the breeze of an elephant’s sneeze
when he asks his barber for a shag ‘round the back.
There is an ocean of uncertainty,
gender, sex and comedy,
linguistic trannie fantasy to boot:
a man in chaps who yodles in the valley
is a migrant agricultural … worker,
and a cowboy here wouldn’t know a hiyo Silver
any sooner than you’d have him in your home
to fix your curtains
or polish up the pommel
on a hand tooled western saddle
while his hog rests on a big kick stand.
Guardsmen standing stiff in beavers do not bother
bevvies of parentally inclined
while the old fellow waits down by the garden gate
making certain that the seed is sown –
singing glory halleluja
to his Yankee doodle dandy
there is a hole in the bucket
and a chicken with no bone,
hutsut ralston on the rillerah
I’ll walk your dog home!

George Roberts
28 January 2007