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Tuesday 12 August 2014

CRIE DU COEUR FROM AN OUTCAST

I open the embossed cover
With the reverence of a lover
Lick my trembling thumb
And open at page one:

ON LYRICALLY LASSOING
LANGUID LANGUAGE
TO PULL THE CARRIAGE
OF VERSE FOR A
LONESOME POETESS

I thump my chest
Harrumph, pick up
My pen to prepare
And declaim:

Oh lovely, so lovely
The hummingbird
The loveliest sound
You ever heard...

And the butterflies
Oh, Flutter-byes
Dandelions
And turds...

SHIT-A-BRICK
Did I say
TURDS!

Oh Lawdy, lawdy...
I ain't no poet!
That word
For manure
Nobody's
Heard it,
At least not
From the lips
Of a Poet!

Oh deary me!
What can I be?
'Cause I say
Rude things
I drinks a bits
And have all
Sorts of saucy
Flings...

I GOT
Ta be a Poet!
Please?
Oh, please
Let me
Be a Poet?
I rhyme
All the time;
And further more,
I'm a bit
Of a slime.

And as for my ego,
I wont say it's divine,
But it is absolutely
Elephantine!

So maybe
I think its absurd
To say "manure"
Or "ordure"
When I really
Mean "turd";
So is that a
Reason to throw
My sweet verse
In the toilet?

Come on?
Let me in
To the Poet's Club...
I swear
To curb my rude
Tendancy to be crude
And be ever so
Academic
Literary
Ordinary,
Placid...

I swear to be
Poeticaly correct
Grammatically abject.
Use only vocabulary
To which you'll not object.

I will be the most
Obedient pet:
House-trained
Bland-brained...
Or is that dead?

Oh please
Just say you'll
Let me in
To the  respectable
Poet Set...

MC

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