wonder why our parents bother giving us a name,
As people change the ones we get so nothing is the same.
An Anthony becomes Tony and Michael, Mike or Mick,
And Joseph always ends of Joe, all Richard gets is Dick.
My theory is, it is at school, that nicknames start to surface,
For kids are quick to give the flick when names don't fit the purpose.
Be it classmates or their teachers they all become fair game,
And how they look or speak or act will earn them that nickname.
Mr. James was known as Pirate, he had a sunken chest,
While Miss Florey she got Barbie, her gear was just the best.
Mr. Roach, the pest, got Cocka and all Kellys they got Ned,
Miss Wright was known as Lefty, Chromedome from Brown's bald head.
Miss Marshall she got Sheriff and Mr. Lamb was served up Racka,
We thought Miss Chaff a crabby bag, so we would call out Sacka.
The Principal was never there so he was Doctor Who,
Satellite was Mr. Mott, he's off the planet too.
Miss Applegate we named her Prunes, she gave us all the runs,
Sister Mary she got Penguin, the nickname for all nuns.
The sportsmaster we called Ten Bob, being only half a quid,
And the Deputy was quite a pest so his nickname was Rid.
Paul Steak well he got T-bone, and Miss Faith they called No Hope,
While Aspro seemed just right for Smith, a slow reacting dope.
Binoculars we called Miss Free, for what she had in front,
While our six foot six school captain was known to all as Runt.
So now at school reunions we hail the old nickname,
Of teachers and of students, their greatest claim to fame.
his book: "Chalk Dust and Bull Dust"