“My name is Cliff and I make things,
you’ll catch me here from 8 thru 4 –
machines they purr and the radio sings,
sometimes here late but don’t pay more.
I don’t mind if the pay ain’t great
and I don’t mind if the boots don’t fit,
’cause when I’m done and I leave late
it’s home I go to my wife Kit.
And you know what – she’s the best ‘darn wife
a man could ever ask for
’cause she’s so fine and full of life
and she does things I don’t ask for.
From afar she’s washer and the baker
but oh my god she’s a fine bootmaker.”
I read [or did I sing?] the poem in my head with a deep southern accent – for me, Cliff doesn’t give a damn about the world but he’s happy and he’s a good guy – I like Cliff.
And here’s an audio clip of the poem in my best deep southern accent ~
This poem has been written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Photography and Poetry Challenge courtesy of prompts by Rob Hanson.