Eratosphere - The Oldie ''Limit: Two Tons" competition by 4th March

Eratosphere (https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/index.php)

- Drills & Amusements (https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/forumdisplay.php?f=30)

- - The Oldie ''Limit: Two Tons" competition by 4th March (https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=25928)

Thank you Brian and Jayne. I rather like the double fish myself, but I shall consider.

Brilliant, Brian - with a truly deadly (!) punch-line.

Thank you, Nigel. I almost made my protagonist female, but thought that Jayne might take it amiss.

Great stuff, Brian and Rob! This comp is going to be hotly contested. Some really good takes on the rather weird title.

I often think the weirder subjects produce some of the most interesting responses. It certainly seems to the case here. Stiff competition already, methinks...

Quote:

I almost made my protagonist female, but thought that Jayne might take it amiss.

Haha. I can honestly say I've never ridden my motorbike at 2 x the ton speed, Brian... I have done 135mph though, then I started to run out of (deserted) road - and out of bottle!

So now, regarding ''the winners' enclosure'', Sylvia, Rob and Brian are certainly worthy of three of the four places if there's any justice in this world. Great stuff, all of you. Well done!

Jayne

I was once ill for 4 days after eating at KFC. Now I know why:
'Rat placenta from KFC'.

There are some brilliant poems here. I think I'll have to give this comp a miss.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Rob Stuart (Post 365917)

I weigh a ton, and look it too: there’s simply no disguising
The puckered rolls of adipose I’ve got from gourmandising.
There’s very little I would deem unsavoury or icky.
If carbon-based, I’ll chug it down: I’m really not too picky.
This predilection grieves my wife-I struggle to appease her
When I’ve been collared crunching chips directly from the freezer,
Or gobbling a sausage roll that’s feculent and stinking,
Or drinking cooking oil (or something else not meant for drinking.)
She’ll wring her hands, comparing my addiction to a junkie’s,
But truth be told, I genuinely couldn’t give a monkey’s.
I’ll turn and walk away from her the moment she starts bitching
And pluck a goldfish from the bowl to swallow, live and twitching.
I’ll fill my tum with anything from compost to polenta,
From steak and kidney pudding to a bit of rat placenta,
From KFC and egg-fried rice to acorns, leaves and catkins…
But if I ever reach two tons, I’m going on the Atkins.

A bit picky, I know, Rob, because it's quite brilliant, but
L6 - I have trouble with gobbling as a three syllable word. It needs an extra syllable - gobbling down?
L7 - I'd probably opt for 'swigging cooking oil' to avoid the repetition of 'drinking'.

Limit: Two Tons

HaHa Two-Ton Sally beats her white drum.
Her teepee thrums thrums power in the night.
A brave and maiden sit nearby. They've come
for help to procreate and Sally's sight

is undisputed. She makes medicine
and ties the couple with a leather strap
together to a pole, serves mescaline
to them there with a wooden spoon. Her lap

is full of potions. Honey locust thorns
are placed in dolls in private places, lit
a little, fire and smoke in them with horns
from buffalo, white and bleached. A snake-bit

chipmunk bleeds out in each; his dying squeal
is mimicked, and Sally, (who barely weighs eighty),
smiles and laughs into the fire where the deal
is done. Their wish is granted and weighty.

Thank you Peter, I'll consider.