Sunday, June 19, 2011

SNORTBUCKET

 Poetry From My Youth
 
Mother died several years ago at 93 after a life full of joy and wonder.  I have several boxes of her belongings, which I have been slowly going through, a little at a time. Last week I hit a treasure trove.  The bottom of the box was filled with all the things of mine that a mother would keep—report cards, homemade Mother’s Day cards, objets d’art from Scout camp, term papers, poetry. I spent all the rest of the day reading the contents of the red file folder there—my writings from second grade on.  I had forgotten lots of them.  Some are pretty bad; some are pretty good; some are hilarious. Here’s a poem from the eighth grade.  The theme for our journal writing for the week was imagination.      

Snortbucket

She got away with anything.
She got away with it all.
She was Sneaky;
She was Bold.
She tore across the back porch with no clothes on at all!
 “Do this, do that,” my Momma said.”
“You must clean up your room.”
But Snortbucket did nothing.
No tasks did she assume.

She got away with anything.
She got away with it all.
She was Sneaky;
She was Bold.
She tore across the back porch with no clothes on at all!

She laughed when grown-ups scolded.
 She said smart-alec stuff. 
She never got  switched for nothing;
No eye was fast enough.

She got away with anything.
She got away with it all.
She was Sneaky:
She was Bold.
She tore across the back porch with no clothes on at all!
 
 At dinner time she had her way.
“Artichokes make me regurgitate”
Ice cream, cookies, popcorn, cake--
Whatever she wanted, that’s what she ate.

She got away with anything.
She got away with it all.
She was Sneaky;
She was Bold.
She tore across the back porch with no clothes on at all!

Snortbucket bullied the cats and the dogs.
She tore up the neighbor’s yard.
All of us got the blame for her tricks.
She would laugh at us really hard.

She got away with anything.
She got away with it all.
She was Sneaky;
She was Bold.
She tore across the back porch with no clothes on at all!
 Snortbucket was my nemesis.
I wished that she was dead!
And when I grew up--
She went away.
See, Snortbucket lived in my head.

3 comments:

  1. Don't remember Snortbucket, but I should...it was, after all, only yesterday. Ozzie and Harriet and their well behaved little kiddies. We should be such good parents.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Snortbucket seems like Judy's inner little bad girl. Is Snortbucket still there?

    ReplyDelete

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