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Woog's World / Season to wrap is reason to rap on why our 'hood is fly

Published 8:25 am, Sunday, December 22, 2013
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Yo! It seems like forever that at Christmastime

I been gettin' down wit a "Woog's World" rhyme

I spent weeks, freakin' weeks, makin' up a poem

`Bout this kickin' town that we all call home

I used names like Joseloff and Landon and Pogue

(Which rhymes, ain't it true, with my own name, Wogue)

I fit in stuff like restaurants too

To give shout-outs to my favorite crew

At Spotted Horse and Viva, and of course the Duck

Wish a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and all that truck.

But that go to real lame, unnerstan' what I'm sayin'?

Makin' poems ain't easy, day out and day in

So I figure I'll spit in a different direction

Kinda like we got new blood in the last election

My boy Jim Marpe is now in the house

Workin' the Town Hall laptop and mouse

A new sheriff took over the Westport map

So I'm a-go celebrate with this "Woog's World" rap.

Give it up for my peeps at the Staples High School

Yo Dodig! Yo Farnen! Yo Addicks! You rule

Laddie and Shepro, Devine and Coach P

Your teams are the illest, any fool can see

You run and you tackle, you pass off the balls

You rattle and shake and bust down the walls

You kick off and kick butt and bust heads and then

You smile and shake hands and do it again.

Now cast yo' eyes over to the musical stage

Where so many artists are on the same page

Cellos and flutes, basses and oboes

They make the best music, together and solos

And when you got yo' Orphenians up there in song

Ain't nuttin' on earth that could ever go wrong

Give it up too for the Players who act

They so bad it's like Broadway, now ain't that a fact

And how `bout some props `cuz we don't have no fumble

Like they do if they wanna put "Rent" on in Trumbull.

Let's hop in my wheels, cruise on down to the Libe

Where Maxine, my main woman, gives a very cool vibe

You can build a small plane, you can print in 3D

Don't have money for streamin'? Sheet, take a DVD

Remember when back in the day it was "quiet"

This chick in the library, she sure don't buy it

Dude, just talk, smoke outside, come back in, check yo' pager

Eat some food, drink some joe, call yo' buds, have a rager.

Then treat your bitches to a real Westport treat

`Cuz Compo be where all the chill dogs go meet

They play catch and fetch, they run and they jump

They sniff at each other, they nuzzle and hump

They may do their business but man, clean up their poo

This ain't no latrine -- we live here too!

My rap won't go platinum if I leave out my hos

So -- sorry, ladies -- but listen, here goes:

Grab all yo' hos, tie `em up, take `em down

Bring `em in to somewhere it's all nice and brown

In addition to hos you'll need trowels and rakes

And shovels and seeds and plenty of stakes

The community garden on Hyde Lane: where it's at

But it's hot in the summer, so be sure wear a hat.

Y'all need a break from this gardening stuff

So go do somethin' that's not quite as tough

Play full-court hoops, or just 3-on-3

"But where," you be sayin', "is the place we can be?"

Are you stupid or what? The best game's at the Y

8 am, noon or 6, homey, give it a try

But there's less than a year to get your game on

Downtown -- then the Y is gonna be gone

Up into the sticks, to Mahackeno

They say it be fly. I'll check it out, bro.

It's time to get ghost. Bustin' outta this gig

I've had it with rappin' -- it's hard man, you dig?

Rhymin' is rough, it's sure gettin' me down

And then add the rule it be all `bout this town

So like Santa I'll jet, but I'll fly with a shout:

"Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Yo Westport! Peace out!"

Dan Woog is a Westport writer, and his "Woog's World" appears each Friday. He can be reached at dwoog@optonline.net. His personal blog is www.danwoog06880.