WHY I'M NOT ENTERING THIS YEAR'S BAKE-OFF
I thought I'd write a sonnet for the bake-off.
Since Gwynn's the judge, I figured I'd try wit,
Perhaps a Wendy-Cope-cum-Sam-Gwynn take-off?
"My agent says my husband is a twit"?
Or maybe I'd be scandalous, like Parker?
Or use a lot of far-fetched rhymes, like Nash?
Or try for something Suessian, but darker?
"These eggs are green, goddamit! Taste like trash!"
But things proved harder than I bargained for.
My sonnet seemed contrived no matter how
I tried to mimick poets I adore.
These clumsy lines are all I have for now,
But next year I will rise above such scrawlings.
I think I'll dash off something a la Stallings.
[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited March 18, 2004).]
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