BBV and Poetry

[joel2006]

[ QUOTE ]


Yes he has Parkinsons, it was a horrible joke.
I thought you said she had fat legs? I am a fan of such wimmins.
Are you in school for poems or out or autodidactic? Monty Cantsin is the BBV Poet Laureate but we should form a Grand Counsel of Poemememts and have HU Triolet Contests for Rolls.

[/ QUOTE ]

I am an autodidact, who is Monty Cantsin?, I'm down for the HU Trioletements, but must warn that I am currently mucho busto. A HU Haiku Slamement might be cool too. Brag; I was the National Haiku Champ in 1998 and 99, and got a Haiku published in Time Magazine, that esteemed Literary Journal.

[CaptainBusto]

[ QUOTE ]
Brag, Beat, Variance
At its best without much sense,
bastard haikuments.

[/ QUOTE ]
easily your best (only good?) post

[Georgia Avenue]

Haiku are easy.
However they should not rhyme.
On the turn, checkraise!

[joel2006]

all-in with a straight
the dealer yawns, burns and turns
buried by a spade

[Avatar of Wine]

[ QUOTE ]
all-in with a straight
the dealer yawns, burns and turns
buried by a spade

[/ QUOTE ]

don't be a racist
absolutely no need to
call a spade a spade

[Chump Change]

WELL SON OF A BITCH

WELL SON OF A GODDAMN BITCH

HACHAHACHAHA

[Chump Change]

GODDAMN ACE OF SPADES

RIGHT THERE AS BIG AS TEXAS

MAN [censored] OOT

[joel2006]

[ QUOTE ]
GODDAMN ACE OF SPADES

RIGHT THERE AS BIG AS TEXAS

MAN [censored] OOT

[/ QUOTE ]

I don't get the last line, what does OOT have to do with the A of Spades?

[Chump Change]

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
GODDAMN ACE OF SPADES

RIGHT THERE AS BIG AS TEXAS

MAN [censored] OOT

[/ QUOTE ]

I don't get the last line, what does OOT have to do with the A of Spades?

[/ QUOTE ]

Everything

[Monty Cantsin]

Not bad. I took the liberty of making a few light edits. I think you'll agree it scans better.

SIREN SONG

When they come to remove you
from your house
with a crane
they will find crushed
beneath the weight of your
massive ulcerating carcass
a couch.
And beneath that couch
a folded square of paper
containing this poem.

The emergency workers will stand
in a loose circle
poking at it with the tongs of life
until one especially bold paramedic
(the new one, still careless, curiousity
not yet burned away
by retarded grease fires
half-eaten cats
and low limit busto shotgun banquets)
unfolds it with a nervous frown.

And he will read about my hands
and their fascinating hobbies
(what with the hiking
and the delving)
and their desire to wander
around your body
(so adorably chubby
although now in retrospect
perhaps even then on the cusp
of hideously obese)
like a hash-dimmed college junior
watching a blurry Europe
through the perforations
of a summer rail pass.

I hope he doesn't respond the way you did
with mild confusion
and a puzzled look of incomprehension
and pity.

Maybe instead he will wonder
standing in the flashing red lights
beneath the whale of Damocles,
How is it that a woman's body
can be so much like a planet
enormous
terrifying
indifferent?

/mc