They have ruined Kerplunk

By KIng Frictionless, posted on 7/24/2008 4:04:35 PM

Today I have been mostly grumpy. There are flies in my eyes.

I wrote a poem and it cheered me up.

The Community Poetry Officer

An ersatz oration for unspecified occasions was how he chose to describe his motif collections of stanzas grand grander grandest moderated via checklist with commas omitted to be placed by committee on submission and payment of fees


Appendix 1

Commas
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I don’t think anyone will be offering me a job as a full time poet any time soon. Would I like being a full time poet? Sitting around thinking of things to write poems about? I have a feeling that poetry was easier to write back in its heyday, you could write about anything; sheep, daffodils, steam trains, cholera, Romans, birds, mead and the rest. These days, as far as I can tell from the poetry readings I have attended in my time you can write about depression, cats and dungarees.

I wonder if there are many poems about bras. Or why you can’t flush some sorts of poos and others go down by themselves. Or the different ways in which you can tie your shoes. Probably. These days you can write a poem about anything, unlike the old days when you could only write about sheep, daffodils, steam trains, cholera, Romans, birds and mead. These days poetry is much easier. You can write about anything be it depression, cats or dungarees.

Yesterday I was thinking of things I would rather be. I could only think of Rocket Scientist, which was not helpful. Today I have come up with Guerrilla Milk Man and Urban Farmer. I’m quite taken with the idea of Urban Farmer; you could buy a few houses and grow vegetables in them and keep pigs in the living room. It would be like the Good Life but on a larger scale. Why don’t more people do that? If we had a few more Urban Farmers and a few less poets we’d sort this country out in a jiffy. I blame Thatcher.

Why have cars when you could have a series of drag lifts stretching the length and breadth of the country. We could all wear roller-skates and get dragged to our destinations. All you would have to do is attach a pulley system to every power line in the land and we would be sorted. But of course it won’t happen. I blame Thatcher.

Oh shit it I give up. Go boil your head. I blame Thatcher.