Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Snore- Daily Object Writing – Nov 23

Mum snored. Big time. I’d hear it through the walls. How did dad ever manage to sleep with all that going on? It was sort of like a car skidding to halt in slow motion. Flaps of air opening and shutting as if they were cogs grating over the gears of a not so well oiled machine. Their bedroom was strange just a curtain across the lounge room, sometimes when I couldn’t sleep I’d go to the kitchen for a glass of milk. I wouldn’t turn on any lights so mostly felt my way there, over the soft blue baubles of the lounge suite and the sensuous curve of the dining table. On the way back I’d spy a tiny glowing orange ember – Dad smoking in bed – perhaps because the snoring had woken him up.

Now apparently I snore. I have no proof of course, but have been told. I wonder if there’s a way to set a recorder going or something similar to check the severity. Apparently I am nudged me when it’s going on and it all comes to a halt. It can be dangerous I hear , you can actually stop breathing all together. hmmmmmm

I know when I’ve been away on trips with other people camping or being stuck in a communal bunk bed situation it’s quite amusing to wake in the night and hear snorting buffaloes in the night. I can’t help but think of a saw rasping slowly over a piece of wood as it’s drawn back, each tooth trying to dig in and bite, just the way the closing passages in your nose do.

In high school the lads would come in from the country and stay at my place on school dance nights- we’d get drunk then go to the dance, come home- get drunker and the play monopoly or something crazy ’til two a.m. – then lights out and we’d all nod off- with some snoring. One night somebody gets up and knocks over the game- has a piss, returns and the snoring resumes- In the darkness Dobbo’s voice says sleepily – “Pom- have you picked up the monopoly yet”?