January 21, 2012

  • Poetic Anonymity

    Jus’ be careful with them on-line forms, is all I’m sayin’…


    {BELOW: TODAY’S POETRY LESSON}

    Me: ‘Yonatan Stonewall’
    Address:

    ’1432 Nowhere Road/

    Anytown, USA’
    Yes, Yer Honor, dat’s my ‘Abode’
    …an’ it’s all I plan to say…

    The Judge: fairly typical, but vocal at times:

    Seems a tad generic, boy.
    You thought we wouldn’t notice?
    Like-the time you listed ‘Redding’, then filled-
    In your ‘Name:’ as ‘Otis’?

    Me: Uh oh. I remember that. Napster. She’s got a file on me?
    Well I bet this one ain’t in it:

    1 7 2 9 Hardy Road, yeah my
    Mom’s a taxi-dermist
    Steals feathers from old mattresses
    The best ones are the firmest

    Judge: Not amused:

    Son, remember, all this can, and
    will be used against you.
    You will rot in jail, you’ll eat your shoes
    and, believe me, that’s a ‘dense chew’.

    Hmm…‘Contrived rhyme’: deduct 10 points. But ‘tell it to the judge’.
    Meanwhile; more threats and tricks:

    Judge:
    This Court has ways to make you talk
    We can cut you like a knife
    This ‘crib’ you claim on ‘Nowhere Road’;
    Have you lived there all your life?

    Me: Haha. Who’s she, my straight-man?

    Not yet, Your Honor, things take time.”  (*rim-shot*)
    (By the way, your outfit’s stunning!)
    Let’s meet in chambers, have a ball
    Then hit the cold earth running.

    Judge: Neither amused nor impressed. Tightens the knot:

    Let’s look at pictures, shall we, Boy?
    Here’s one, might be familiar?
    It’s either you or Myrna Loy
    You decide, or we’ll get sillier

    Me: Gulp. ‘They know’. Deep breath. Ignore…

    OK, the dude resembles me
    Let’s say he just got lucky
    But-the-shades, they’re so ‘last century’
    Guy’s old, and dumb, and ‘sucky’

    Judge: Rustling through her files. (Letterman and Leno done that too, when things weren’t going well):

    ’1 3 5 9 7th Ave’,
    an odd choice of a-dress?
    Not sayin’ you wear them women’s clothes
    But you will, ‘under duress’.

    Me: Again with the homo prison-threats? This shit’s gettin’ old.
    Might as well throw myself to the mercy of the Court:

    Ya got me, counsel, fair and square
    I am Solberg, in the flesh
    Now habeas my corpus
    While the meat’s still young and fresh

    Judge: Gulp. Then Bang. (shuts off cameras)

    I find the-defendant guilty
    of ‘Impersonation One’
    Postpone the Sentence Phase until the
    Parties have some fun

    Me: Uh oh. Might have to get drunk for this.



    YES, THIS POST IS POETRY

    Functional, practical, rhythmic, and properly rhyming.
    Call it ‘Sing-song’ if you must, but it kept me out of Sing-Sing, so there.
    You were expecting {blank} verse??

    Man
    Alone in the Kosmos
    At least he hopes
    Wary of Cookbooks

    A Box of Baco-bits
    Last one on the Quickee-Mart shelf
    Praying to remain in its current state
    Forever and a day

    A dollar thirty eight you pay
    The Fine Structure constant
    A co-incidence?
    And a pie for $3.14?
    Also the work of cruel chance?

    The food is now yours
    It will soon be a part of you
    Alone again in the Kosmos

    Nah, who the hell knows what that stuff means. Cute formatting though

    Me, I’m a sucker for the lyric-ready:

    A tear is just a tear
    It rhymes with ‘here’ or ‘there’
    But f*ck me if I know which one?
    Gets fundamentally more un-clear
    As Time goes by
    END of LESSON. (TEST as soon as I come up for parole.)

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