when everybody on the planet
had a collection of poems to sell.
Hate set in.
Everyone thought they should be famous,
like famous Seamus,
or Mary-Thingy-with-a-man's-surname.
Eventually wives and husbands would spend all day
trying to get their partner to buy,
or at least review, their poxy book.
Eventually people stopped caring
even about commas
and ended up reading sonnets to the plants,
who died in torment
leaving us with no food
only ghastly confessional poetry
by americans
and even a few British poets
who really should have known better
what with coming from
the Land of Shakespeare
and that complete scuz-bucket Piers Morgan.
It was too late.
Man cannot live on bread alone
or on lines with irritating line breaks and blo
ody stupid enjamb
ment
which gives you whiplash.
The Endtimes Came
Oh, oh, is this where we're headed? And I'm guessing that your posting this under Post Some Prose counts as the stanza-not-written about how much text parading as poetry is actually in your view, unpoetic.
I kept re-reading the opening sentence, Seth. It's beautifully informative and clear and you can't resist sliding into the read.
The line that confused me was, "But it was too late." It implies that something was done to remedy the situation but I can't find what action was too late to do any good.
Whiplash, eh?
Jackie
I kept re-reading the opening sentence, Seth. It's beautifully informative and clear and you can't resist sliding into the read.
The line that confused me was, "But it was too late." It implies that something was done to remedy the situation but I can't find what action was too late to do any good.
Whiplash, eh?
Jackie
-
Antcliff
- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 6599
- Joined: Thu Nov 24, 2011 1:35 am
- Location: At the end of stanza 3
Hi Jackie. ha! No, this thing is far too short on such serious intent.I'm guessing that your posting this under Post Some Prose counts as the stanza-not-written about how much text parading as poetry is actually in your view, unpoetic.
I'm not at all inclined to police the prose/poetry border. I like much prose/poetry.Yeh! Spot on. I must get rid of that "but". Thanks.The line that confused me was, "But it was too late." It implies that something was done to remedy the situation but I can't find what action was too late to do any good.
Whiplash, eh?
Hooray! Thank you.I kept re-reading the opening sentence, Seth. It's beautifully informative and clear and you can't resist sliding into the read.
And thanks for calling by. I think I might live here on Prose Street for a while. Call in for a cup of tea if you are passing.
w
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
