Scientific Evidence
I used to be a vegetarian, but I'm alright now....honest.
You died last night, you dunderhead,
a sausage, your assassin.
This cross-section of artery
(scalpel sculpted, so precisely)
shows us furring formed by fat.
You scoffed it swiftly,
as baby bawled,
ruddy from commuting.
He’d hated shopping
in that super-store where
the trolley tried tricks,
and a hyperactive heel
scuffed your Achilles’.
Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.
Straining a cigarette
scorched lips and lungs
when your tarmac neighbour
protruded in pinched proximity
on the baby side of your banger.
Treacly traffic
dreamt it’s way home,
drowning your ears in
drum-beat dross
through heat-haze.
Home and wet,
hip heated slowly
as baby yelled “potty!”
Meat mashing machinery
chewed and spewed
in wide-screen at 93db,
as you wound around
the family maze,
carrying the kill
in your Tesco bag for life.
You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,
and sizzles splashed
like fiery needles
onto tender wrists,
whilst the smoke alarm
screeched you senseless.
(Kids complained of carelessness.)
Over din, your
friendly banker phoned,
informing of foreclosure,
and finally, you bit your last!
Don’t let the do-gooding dodos
in dispatch delude you
as to how your demise
was determined.
The sausage is guilty.
There’s scientific evidence!
You died last night, you dunderhead,
a sausage, your assassin.
This cross-section of artery
(scalpel sculpted, so precisely)
shows us furring formed by fat.
You scoffed it swiftly,
as baby bawled,
ruddy from commuting.
He’d hated shopping
in that super-store where
the trolley tried tricks,
and a hyperactive heel
scuffed your Achilles’.
Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.
Straining a cigarette
scorched lips and lungs
when your tarmac neighbour
protruded in pinched proximity
on the baby side of your banger.
Treacly traffic
dreamt it’s way home,
drowning your ears in
drum-beat dross
through heat-haze.
Home and wet,
hip heated slowly
as baby yelled “potty!”
Meat mashing machinery
chewed and spewed
in wide-screen at 93db,
as you wound around
the family maze,
carrying the kill
in your Tesco bag for life.
You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,
and sizzles splashed
like fiery needles
onto tender wrists,
whilst the smoke alarm
screeched you senseless.
(Kids complained of carelessness.)
Over din, your
friendly banker phoned,
informing of foreclosure,
and finally, you bit your last!
Don’t let the do-gooding dodos
in dispatch delude you
as to how your demise
was determined.
The sausage is guilty.
There’s scientific evidence!
Last edited by mick on Mon Jun 05, 2006 4:53 pm, edited 3 times in total.
what's this doing in beginners man? Can I move it?
My only question: is that first line part of the poem or is that a note to the audience?
Haha, very amusing. Have you ever heard this argument? Don't know if I buy it, thought it pertained -
http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=grill
The writer cracks me up, he's so full of it sometimes. But I didn't know about this one.
Good job mick.
- Caleb
My only question: is that first line part of the poem or is that a note to the audience?
Haha, very amusing. Have you ever heard this argument? Don't know if I buy it, thought it pertained -
http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=grill
The writer cracks me up, he's so full of it sometimes. But I didn't know about this one.
Good job mick.
- Caleb
Was a note to the audience Caleb. Thanks for your link - I'll have a look in a minute. As for moving the poem, it's fine by me as long as the concensus of comments is favourable. Glad you liked it. I really enjoyed writing it.
Mick
Mick
Definitely worthy of a move. This is your best yet Mick, well done. It reminds me of some of Geoffs stuff - Lines like,
'Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.'
or
'You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,'
'Over din, your
Friendly banker phoned - 'Over din' doesn't look, or sound right. 'Over dinner' or 'Over the din' would be better.
nice one
Barrie
'Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.'
or
'You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,'
'Over din, your
Friendly banker phoned - 'Over din' doesn't look, or sound right. 'Over dinner' or 'Over the din' would be better.
nice one
Barrie
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- Location: manchester UK
hey mick
really nice piece, I love the alliteration throughout, keeps the attention fixed on what your saying. I dont think I understand the third stanza, though that might be down to my denseness rather than any vagarity...
thanks for posting
benjy
really nice piece, I love the alliteration throughout, keeps the attention fixed on what your saying. I dont think I understand the third stanza, though that might be down to my denseness rather than any vagarity...
thanks for posting
benjy
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- Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 8:02 pm
- Location: manchester UK
aaahhh
cheers mick, thats clarified the whole stanza now
benjy
cheers mick, thats clarified the whole stanza now
benjy
Hi Mick,
this is a winner!
You died last night, you dunderhead,
a sausage, your assassin.
This cross-section of artery
(scalpel sculpted, so precisely)
shows us furring formed by fat.
great opening, no nits with the first strophe, though to be extra picky if you leave out L4, you still get the sense of scalpel sculpturing, because you use the word cross section.
You scoffed it swiftly,
as baby bawled,
ruddy from commuting.
He’d hated shopping
in that super-store where
the trolley tried tricks,
and you couldn’t control it
after a hyperactive heel
scuffed your Achilles’.
Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.
ok funny and really wonderful, but you could probably condense bits of it,you don't need L7 in this strophe, the trolley trying tricks implies an uncontrollable trolley. Cut after in L8, thumbs up for a first rate ending to the strophe
Straining a cigarette
scorched lips and lungs
when your tarmac neighbour,
protruded in pinched proximity
on the baby side of your banger.
Treacly traffic
dreamt it’s way home,
drowning your ears in
drum-beat dross
through heat-haze.
Thats one strophe that I didnt like, you could probably cut it without much loss.
Home and wet,
hip heated slowly
as baby yelled “potty!”
Meat mashing machinery
chewed and spewed
in wide-screen at 93db,
as you wound around
the family maze,
carrying the kill
in recycled plastic.
is there any particular significance to the recycled plastic, and why is N carrying the meat around the house? Family maze makes me feel that Narrator (N) is wandering about the house with meat in recycled plastic. Didnt get that bit, sorry.
You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,
and sizzles splashed
like fiery needles
onto tender wrists,
whilst the smoke alarm
screeched you senseless.
(Kids complained of carelessness.)
Over din, your
friendly banker phoned,
informing of foreclosure,
and finally, you bit your last! ---no don't tell me show!!
Don’t let the do-gooding dodos
in dispatch delude you
as to how your demise
was determined.
The sausage is guilty.
loved it! I don't know if the starting sentence is part of the poem, but was good for a laugh.
best of luck with revising this Mick
and thanks for the read,
Khansaa
this is a winner!
You died last night, you dunderhead,
a sausage, your assassin.
This cross-section of artery
(scalpel sculpted, so precisely)
shows us furring formed by fat.
great opening, no nits with the first strophe, though to be extra picky if you leave out L4, you still get the sense of scalpel sculpturing, because you use the word cross section.
You scoffed it swiftly,
as baby bawled,
ruddy from commuting.
He’d hated shopping
in that super-store where
the trolley tried tricks,
and you couldn’t control it
after a hyperactive heel
scuffed your Achilles’.
Your faded credit card
wouldn’t wash at the check-out,
though it had in the machine.
ok funny and really wonderful, but you could probably condense bits of it,you don't need L7 in this strophe, the trolley trying tricks implies an uncontrollable trolley. Cut after in L8, thumbs up for a first rate ending to the strophe
Straining a cigarette
scorched lips and lungs
when your tarmac neighbour,
protruded in pinched proximity
on the baby side of your banger.
Treacly traffic
dreamt it’s way home,
drowning your ears in
drum-beat dross
through heat-haze.
Thats one strophe that I didnt like, you could probably cut it without much loss.
Home and wet,
hip heated slowly
as baby yelled “potty!”
Meat mashing machinery
chewed and spewed
in wide-screen at 93db,
as you wound around
the family maze,
carrying the kill
in recycled plastic.
is there any particular significance to the recycled plastic, and why is N carrying the meat around the house? Family maze makes me feel that Narrator (N) is wandering about the house with meat in recycled plastic. Didnt get that bit, sorry.
You slapped the slaughter in
saturates with added salt,
and sizzles splashed
like fiery needles
onto tender wrists,
whilst the smoke alarm
screeched you senseless.
(Kids complained of carelessness.)
Over din, your
friendly banker phoned,
informing of foreclosure,
and finally, you bit your last! ---no don't tell me show!!
Don’t let the do-gooding dodos
in dispatch delude you
as to how your demise
was determined.
The sausage is guilty.
loved it! I don't know if the starting sentence is part of the poem, but was good for a laugh.
best of luck with revising this Mick
and thanks for the read,
Khansaa
Thanks for your tips Khansaa.
The "scalpel sculpted" was a play on the word "ARTery".
Agree with you on 2nd - "couldn't control it" is superfluous - cheers.
Strophe 3 is intendended to increase the sense of frustration - finding someone has parked too close to you in the car park, and having to endure other drivers' "music" on the way home.
"Recycled plastic" is the carrier bag from the supermarket, inteneded to highlight irony of the piffling attempts of "conservationists".
The "family maze" was sprawling legs in the cramped living conditions - perhaps this should have been clarified - cheers.
Mick.
The "scalpel sculpted" was a play on the word "ARTery".
Agree with you on 2nd - "couldn't control it" is superfluous - cheers.
Strophe 3 is intendended to increase the sense of frustration - finding someone has parked too close to you in the car park, and having to endure other drivers' "music" on the way home.
"Recycled plastic" is the carrier bag from the supermarket, inteneded to highlight irony of the piffling attempts of "conservationists".
The "family maze" was sprawling legs in the cramped living conditions - perhaps this should have been clarified - cheers.
Mick.
- twoleftfeet
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Mick,
This is great, especially the lines that Barrie mentioned.
I can also relate to "drum-beat dross" - why does the worst music have to be played at the loudest volume?
I have no quibbles whatever, but one suggestion:
- change "re-cycled plastic" to "Tesco Bag for Life"
Plaudits
Geoff
This is great, especially the lines that Barrie mentioned.
I can also relate to "drum-beat dross" - why does the worst music have to be played at the loudest volume?
I have no quibbles whatever, but one suggestion:
- change "re-cycled plastic" to "Tesco Bag for Life"
Plaudits
Geoff
Am i a bit thick? did he/she die of arterial fail or of choking on the sausage,
i think.. the arterys from smoking and fatty foods?
such a good read and feel i've been in the same supermarket, is that my smoke alarm bleeping, loved it Mick well done. AC
i think.. the arterys from smoking and fatty foods?
such a good read and feel i've been in the same supermarket, is that my smoke alarm bleeping, loved it Mick well done. AC
Hi AC. This one was lots of stuff all rolled into one. The "narator" is supposed to be either in the dead person's imagination, or a "spirit" who is explaining their cause of death (you know - the one who refer's to "the do-gooding dodos in dispatch" later in the poem). It's intended to make a big deal about the stresses in the dead person's life, but then totally disregard them when telling the deady the cause of their death. Then it goes on to show how rediculous "normal" life is in terms of things like carrying dead animal home in a recycled plastic bag. (if geoff is reading, thanks again for the replacement line on that one).
Thanks for looking.
Mick.
Thanks for looking.
Mick.
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Mick this is so good.
Just read Sunderland 19 and glnced through on the off chance off finding something more. I can't believe this was ever in the beginners section. Hard to find a favorite line, i think barrie picked out the credit card couplet and I think I'd probably agree.... has this made it to the featured poem section? ANyone else aggree?
Just read Sunderland 19 and glnced through on the off chance off finding something more. I can't believe this was ever in the beginners section. Hard to find a favorite line, i think barrie picked out the credit card couplet and I think I'd probably agree.... has this made it to the featured poem section? ANyone else aggree?
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- Persistent Poster
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- Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 8:02 pm
- Location: manchester UK
I'd back that motion definitely
benjy
benjy
I think something like this happening, will be my demise.
i have read this again and again i understand the theme now it just cracks me up.
That stray heel just thinking about it haha.
You Mick are very talented. AC
i have read this again and again i understand the theme now it just cracks me up.
That stray heel just thinking about it haha.
You Mick are very talented. AC