Great. Thanks a bunch, Mark.
It seems the beasts holding me in my cell were highly amused by Mr Robson’s recent display of poetic genius. They’ve insisted I write one, too.
I tried to explain that poetry isn’t really my thing. I told them I’ve never even attempted to write a poem in my life. To be fair to them, they did take my comments on board. Then they set my trousers on fire, and filled my shoes with poo.
As a result, I have written a poem. It’s not as long (or as good) as Mark’s, but given the circumstances, I hope it’ll do.
There’s a Monster Over There
There’s a monster over there,
With maggots in its hair,
And a wicked beady stare,
That’s like no other.
There’s a creature in the sink,
With skin that’s greenish-pink,
And a nasty farty stink,
Just like your brother.
There’s a beastie at my back,
With teeth so big and black,
And claws as sharp as tacks,
Like my wife’s mother.
There’s a thing that’s very sly,
With a single shifty eye,
It just bit me on one thigh,
And then the other!
Something giggles by the door,
Something wriggles on the floor,
I would love to write some more,
But unfortunately I’ve run out of rhyming words. Sorry.
17/01/2009 at 10:10 pm Permalink
Genius! Hrrrgghh, I mean yes, very good, Baz. (Let’s not encourage the monsters too much, or they’ll want us to do this sort of thing every day!)
18/01/2009 at 10:38 am Permalink
Poor toilet facilities and poo in your shoe! I never thought of that when I used to get poet’s block… It clearly works very well! Top poem – and very accurate. The one with banana like growths in his armpits and cheesy Polo breath keeps trying to put a soggy chip in my ear – and saying ‘Ibble’. I don’t understand…