Lost Words: About the poet

Traps

by Andrew Graves

 

Rain always reminds me of
school back then,

where sometimes it felt that
no sooner

had we learned to stand up,
say ey up,

they were telling us

to shut our traps and sit
down.

Best opportunities already
slammed shut,

as though the world had put
the wood in’t hole for good.

 

So, we used to wag it.

Finding shelterfrom the crowd,

cadged fags in our gobs,

shivering nesh on them rawky November
afternoons

like Halloween hangovers,

our mard-arse faces twisted

like the turnips we used to
carve

to blag tuffees from folks on
that posh bit of street.

 

Clammed to death, stomachs as
empty

as a snaptin, done in, waiting
to get called in for tea,

for chip cobs, vinegary
heaven on a plate.

 

Convinced we were destined to
get caught in their plans,

we were always hoping for weather
and times less rammel,

like the Summers we had when
we were toddy,

the cowlady blitz of ’76,

nicking guzgogs from owd Baxter’s
backyard.

 

Chasing after the oakie man,

gagging for a sucker,

day trips to Skeggy,

paddling in the nuddy by the
broken glass

 

Then back home to that
greasy, tomato sauce forgotten estate

where grommars stood nebbin’
through

pristine net curtains

and rag and bone bobos

clopped past jitties and corsies,

and kids in parkas worn as
Batman capes.

 

Those Steptoe realities of
unfurling beauty, ruffling the edges

of what they thought that we
were

and said we weren’t.

 

They called us kitchen sink,
broken and irrelevant,

quick to write us off,
without even checking if we had words too.

Not needing their permission

we bled into the language,

soaking into the missed
corners

of a county that was always
ours.

 

They may try to throw us off

But we can always put the
kettle on

 

and though it may be silin’
down

on this unapologetic little
town

where it’s always a bit black
over Bill’s mam’s house

 

we can still get mashin’

keeping our lugholes open

 

but never our traps shut

“Being a Nottingham-based writer means I can’t help but be fascinated by accents and dialects, as the county as a whole contains so many variations of both. Like other areas, Nottingham and its surrounding towns and villages, is awash with a verbal history. Many words which are either still in use or have been forgotten, tell us who we are and describe our links to industry, environment and locality. Having been involved with the Lost Words project, mainly in schools, I have been delighted to see the enthusiasm shown by young people for slang and local phrases, both old and new. I feel really honored to now be taking this project out to adults and the wider community in the form of creative writing workshops in  Inspire libraries."