Poem

Wrote this back in 1960. Mom put a padded toilet seat in the outhouse
up at the cabin, and the cold made it split, and would grab you butt
so she got a blue painted one from somewhere and the paint was pealing
off in places needed repainting, but it split and then she got a good
one. Thie blue seat was the inspiration for the poem. Not sent in to
be published.


What We Gonna Do?


Woolworth store I got complaint,
about one two bit can of paint:
my man he buy in your damn store,
and now by cripe i'm plenty sore.

My man is clean, and he's so neat.
He buy the paint for toilet seat.
One whole week we watch with eye,
But your damn paint, she no get dry.

I say to my man, it serve you right.
you want to be with money tight.
That two bit paint she no damn good:
it no get dry on no damn wood.

My daughter she get ring around:
when on the toilet she sit down.
For one whole week we sit and wait:
And now we all got constipate.

Woolworth's we don't know what to do,
We got to eat and some goes through.
When pains come on I almost faint:
But squirm and think of that damn paint.

Now Mr. Woolworth I ask you:
What the hell we gonna do.
How can our home be nice and neat,
If paint don't dry on toilet seat.