Bob the Milkman

Not quite a poem and not quite prose but not quite prose poetry either… Probably best filed under “Whimsy”.

Bob the Milkman

Bob the milkman was an ugly bugger
He had, as my mum would say,
‘One eye in the pot and the other up the chimney,’
Or,
More simply put,
Was ‘as cock-eyed as a whelk.’
She had a way with words, did mum,
But knew nothing of political correctness.
My sister-in-law’s mum was even worse;
She would run after the village hunchback and touch his back
‘For luck.’
He hated it, and would get the hump.
It’s not funny, but it always made me laugh.
As did mum, moaning about Bob the Milkman
Who was ‘cock-eyed as a whelk,
‘Tight as a duck’s arse,
‘And a miserable ol’ fucker to boot.’

Bob’s float was *MAGIC*
It was only the size of a regular float
But it had more stock than the village shop.
It was like the TARDIS, and Bob was Doctor Who.
He was sort of a cross between doctors seven and two
Patrick Troughton meets Sylvester McCoy.
Only cockeyed.

He had piles too
And walked like John Wayne.
Wincing with every step.
The leatherette bench of his float
Must have played havoc with his farmers;
Freezing in winter,
Sweaty in summer,
And only the thinnest padding and sheet of ply
Between his arse
And the surface of the road.

He didn’t just sell milk and cream
He sold potatoes and yoghurts and chocolate Mickeys too
He even sold mars bars for a while
But only in the winter because they melted too quick
And were too easy to nick ‘cos we could fit ‘em in our pocket.
You couldn’t do that with a yoghurt.

Bob’s yoghurts were the best.
He did strawberry and mandarin and hazelnut and raspberry.
My favourites were hazelnut, ‘cos they were nice and crunchy.
The best thing about Bob’s yoghurts
Was that you could eat them on Monday
And not pay for them ‘til Saturday
It was much easier to bully your mum for a yoghurt than an ice cream
‘Cos the ice-cream man wanted cash in hand
For his Mivvis and Nobbly-Bobblies.
There wasn’t much of that about on Mondays
Especially during school holidays.

Bob the milkman was an ugly bugger
But every day come rain or shine
He and his magic milk float would be there
Steadfastly creeping up the hill
With yoghurts and mars bars and chocolate Mickeys
Towards my house.
Winter and summer
Autumn and spring,
Splashing through puddles,
Three wheels spinning on snow
Steadfast Bob
The cockeyed milkman.

bob the milkman

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