So. I was showing people the Godz Poodlz video. Which is very, VERY funny. And in which the Poodlz both look like serious, SERIOUS stud muffins. Or stud donuts. What the HELL is a stud donut? Anyway …
So Rhod Durre (the guy in the glasses we all wish we could get away with who resembles a fighter pilot) just became my 101st FAN ON FACEBOOK today.
This is a BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL because if you know me you know how it has been …
We will take a short break now to celebrate with a tiny celebratory poem 🙂
This is the beginning of a poem that I actually thought that I was going to try and PUBLISH. Go ahead. Laugh. It’s funny. There is no place to publish a poem that I was going to enter into a contest that was supposed to be kind of like a literary Song Fu and which I did not complete.
I was to write off three prompts. They were Flower, denouement, and something else I can’t remember but that made me think of murder. Or produce. Since everything naturally makes me think of murder, even something like pairs figure skating – I of course thought about murder at the farmer’s market. Because we can’t just go quietly and get our Kombucha Tea, now CAN WE????
I didn’t stop there. No … I wanted to put it in IAMBIC PENTAMETER
TROUBLE AT THE FARMERS MARKET
(a mysterious tragedy)
I have uncovered tragic tragedy
Among these vegetarian delights
O! Such a shocker as has ne’er been seen
RANDOM MARKET GOER
at least not since last year’s Kombucha fights!
What say you rabble rouser, what is this
Disturber of treasured organic peace
Although it’s true something is yet amiss
Your un-coolness of energy must cease
The gentleman, correctly he did shout
And his past truths they cannot be denied
But although although cultured tea was thrown about
Not even one brave market-goer died!
What say you sir? Is something now awry?
Assure you I, good sir, the trouble’s nigh!
It was gonna get really good, I promise you. I was gonna have knives, and a flower poisoning (à la White Oleander, and a thwarted romance, and … and …
But I have a rehearsal at 2 … and the best laid plans of conga players and donuts …