Oh oh oh, right up my alley!


A Nun and a Model Get it On

So a nun and a narcissist model
have a cat fight in a church.
Thou shalt not covet my husband, bi-otch!

The nun throws a wood scrubber
as the model walks away gloating:
Yah, I had you shipped off to Alaska.
Dress warm, she says.
Cachunk - wooden handle connects with quaffed tresses,
talk about a bad-hair-day.

Oh no you din't.
Craw-ack - hand connects with nun's pretty face,
vindictive grimace flashes and the fight really warms up.
More hair pulling as the model gets swung in circles.
Some serious Bible bashing ensues, connecting
with the nun's cerebellum.
Score another for the model.

Nun gets thrown onto the candle table.
OOOhh - shot down in flames - that's gotta hurt.

Model gets a conscience:
Shit, set the rectory on fire, and not in a good way.
Me and hubby put good money into this church.
Maybe, I should put hot-to-trot nun out too?

Grabs a Jesus Saves banner.
Tackles burning nun to the ground like swaddling clothes.
Nun's collar is more than hot now,
she's biting mad. Incisors meet model's meager arm.
Not much to chew on, so she savours
what she can get.

I know this is only D&A but, aside from being considerably more than 16 lines, this is woefully awful as poetry - quite apart from the content. I'm not sure that you've cottoned to what this forum is about.

Oh crap, didn't catch the line limit - anemia has me below half mast most days lately. Try again.


Canada, the Fairest Land in the Land

I'm far too polite and reserved to tell you
how vast, and great, and beautiful our land
really really really is, so I shall have to
settle for comparing us to a mid-summer's America
(as in the States, you damn Yanks).
Americans like to propagate that they are,
and always have been the mightiest, and
that their might is always right. But I hearken
back to a certain day in the battle of 1812, when

we burned down your Whitehouse, and
kept Ontario, so who sucked whom then,
eh?

That Plumbing Job
 

Hear, hear!

Plumbing is a serious business, isn't it? Especially when it all goes wrong...
(I've been able to trim the original to these 16 lines simply by dropping half the verses. Hmm...)

A Plumber attended our Mains;
I wasn’t impressed by his manner:
He muttered of “gutters” and “drains”
While scratching his bum with a spanner;

“It’ll surely be quite a few bob –
I suspect there’s an underground leak.”
At last he got on with the job:
“It shouldn’t take more than a week.”

I couldn’t say his pace was brisk – he
Seemed able to while away hours
On tea-breaks and biscuits - and whisky!
(Cadged from a decanter of ours.)

But - at last! - we have water on tap.
Was his competence addled by Scotch,
This greedy, undexterous chap?
That’s one MAIN-MENDED SIN-OF-A-BOTCH!

We’ve always feared the end was nigh.
The simple folk of times gone by
Expected that the Lord would bring
A wrathful end to everything,
But now we fret we’ll be destroyed
By virus or by asteroid,
By overpopulation or
By thermonuclear World war,
By black holes conjured courtesy
Of boffins at the LHC,
Or rogue computers that refuse
To see that we’re of any use
And pull our plug. We could expire
In ice or just as like in fire,
With bang or whimper. Count the ways.
We’re jolly spoilt for choice these days!

I say! I do like the "jolly" in the last line. I think this might comprehensively hit the spot as just what Lucy was looking for. Very neat.

Rob, I too particularly like the 'jolly'.

I know this is a light touch comp, but I would like to speak up for our savvy forebears and just take issue with that one word, 'simple', applied to folk of the past. I think the devising and construction of megalithic astronomical/calendrical observatories such as Stonehenge, and others worldwide, gives the lie to that... Even a few centuries ago supposedly learned men of science could scoff at stones falling from the sky, but we know better now. The ancients may well have experienced such cataclysms at times and noted a periodicity (e.g. meteor showers recur annually, and with particular intensity at greater intervals)... something useful to keep track of for advance warning. Hence the effort they put into megaliths? Maybe they knew more than they're often given credit for!

Though I agree that the neolithics did genius things and I too get riled up when I hear "bomb them back to the stone age", through the centuries each brilliant civilization has surely included a stratum with dodo brains and (as I interpreted Rob's poem) these are the ones refered to as "simple" and not all people of the past.

So I think "simple" earns its place.

.

Thank you, Janice. At last I feel at home in the 21st Century.

What the hell - I don't think the market is saturated, yet.


Invasion of the Innocuous Fungus

The scent like bread rising from tender
morsels, a space meant for another

type of breeding. Itch and burn.
Scratch and rub. Fleeting relief
from creeping tendrils, a short circuit
of nerve endings - the fauna
is a sauna. A teeming hotbed,
mutated spores become mycelial,
entrenched upon the mucosa.
The flesh flashes red,

infiltrated, a mere petri dish to form
fungus gone awry.