Edward Dyson

Here you will find the Long Poem Bricks of poet Edward Dyson


Dear Ned, I now take up my pen to write 
you these few lines, 
And hopin' how they find you fit. Gorbli', 
it seems an age 
Since Jumbo ducked the Port, 'n' drilled 'n' 
polished to the nines, 
He walked his pork on Collins like a hero off 
the stage, 
Then hiked a rifle 'cross the sea this bleedin' 
war to wage. 

The things what's 'appened lately calls to 
Jumbo's mind that day 
Our push took on the Peewee pack, 'n' 
belted out their lard, 
With twenty cops to top it off. But now I'm 
stowed away, 
A bullet in me gizzard where I took it good 
and hard, 
A-dealin'-stoush 'n' mullock to the Prussian 
flamin' Guard. 

At Bullcoor mortal charnce had dumped a 
mutton-truck of us 
From good ole Port ker-flummox where we 
didn't orter be, 
All in a 'elpless hole-the Pug, Bill Carkeek, 
Son, 'n' Gus, 
Don, Steve, 'n' Jack, 'n' seven more, 'n', as 
it 'appens, me, 
With nothin' in since breakfast, 'n' a week 
to go for tea. 

Worked loose from Caddy's bunch, we went 
it gay until we found 
We'd took to 'arf the ragin' German Hempire 
on our own. 
Then down we went so 'umble, with our noses 
in the ground, 
Takin' cover in the rubble. If a German head 
was shown 
It was fare-the-well to Herman with a bullet 
through the bone. 

We slogged the cows remorseless, 'n' they 
laid for us a treat. 
We held that stinkin' cellar, though, 'n' when 
the day was done 
Son pussied on his bingie where a Maxie trim 
'n' neat 
Had spit out loaded lightnin', and he slugged 
a tubby Hun, 
Then choked a Fritzie with his dukes, 'n' 
pinched the sooner's gun! 

We rigged her on her knuckle-bones. Cri', 
how she lapped 'em up! 
We hosed 'em out with livin' lead. That was 
the second day. 
Me left eye I'd 'ave give for jest a bubble in a 
Three fingers I'd 'ave parted for a bone I've 
flung away; 
But the butcher wasn't callin', 'n' the fountain 
didn't play. 

T'was rotten mozzle, Neddo. We had blown 
out ever clip, 
'N' 'blooed the hammunition for the little box 
of tricks. 
Each took a batten in his fist. Sez Billy 
?Let 'er rip!? 
But Son he claws his stubble. Sez?he: 
?Hold a brace of ticks.? 
Then ?Yow!? he pipes 'n' ?Strewth!? he 
sez, ?it's bricks, you blighters, 

There's more than 'arf a million spilt where 
somethin' hit a pub; 
We creeps among 'n' sorts 'em, stack afore, 
'n' stack behind; 
The Hun is comin' at us with his napper like 
a tub? 
You couldn't 'ope to miss it, pickled, par- 
alysed, 'n' blind. 
Sez Sonny: ?Lay 'em open! Give 'em 
blotches on the rind!? 

Then bricks was flyin' in the wind. Mine 
dinted Otto's chin; 
Ole Nosey got his brother, which he never 
more will roam. 
When Ulrich stopped a Port bookay he rolled 
his alley in. 
Their fire was somethin' fierce. Poor Son 
was blowin' blood 'n' foam, 
?Fill up,? he coughs, ?'n' plug 'em! S'elp 
me Gord, we're goin' 'ome!? 

With bricks we drove right at 'em 'n' we 
wanged 'em best we could. 
'Twas either bed 'n' breakfast or a scribble 
and a wreath. 
Haynes bust a Prussian's almond, took the 
bay'net where he stood, 
Then heaved his last 'arf-Brunswick, split 
the demon's grinnin' teeth, 
And Son went down in glory, with a German 

We'd started out with gibbers in our clobber 
and our 'ats. 
They gave us floatin' lead enough to stop an 
army cor. 
We yelled like fiends, 'n' countered with a 
lovely flight of bats, 
Then rushed in close formation, heavin' cot- 
tages, n' tore 
Through blinded, bleedin' Bosches, 'n' lor 
love yeh, it was war! 

We came peltin', headfirst, 'elpless, in a drain 
among a lot 
Of dirty, damned old Tommies (Gord! The 
best that ever blew!) 
Eight left of us, all punctured, each man 
holdin' what he'd got. 
Me wild, a rat hole in me lung, but in me 
mauley, too, 
A bull-nosed brick with whiskers where no 
whiskers ever grew. 

There's nothin' doin' now. I wear me blan- 
kets like a toff. 
The way this fat nurse pets me, strewth, it's 
well to be so sick, 
A-dreamin' of our contract 'n' the way we 
pulled it off. 
I reckon Haig is phonin' Hughes: ?Hullo, 
there, Billy. Quick? 
A dozen of the pushes and a thousan' tons 
of brick!?