Something to ponder on as you wander on


Some liars are born that way, some are self-made; but the really great ones are elected to Congress…
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Sunday, August 3, 2008

A NEW YORK MINUTE OF POO.....

.
Many moons ago I had a brief E-mail conversation with
FaerieKat about a poem I had just read in the newspaper…
Every time I read it all I could think was WTF?...This is a great piece of writing?...It doesn’t rhyme,, it has no cadence,, and its
not a Haiku…So I had to call in the Navy expert…I don’t like
calling in the Navy cuz they all wear funny white bellbottom pants,,
and we all know that the Navy is just there to support the real
fighting Joes,, the Marines…And to keep their toy boats all
nicely painted grey…She explained that it was the type of poem
that delights NY bat cape wearing snippy critics like in the
New Yorker…Mainly because it confuses them and so they think
it must be a masterpiece…It has to be a masterpiece,, and far above
their heads in meaning,, otherwise common folk like you and me
would get it…I still don’t…And its been swishing around in my
cob web filled upper storage room for months now…So I decided to let you all have a look at it…Tell me what you think…I think it’s a con job by the author…It has only 29 words and only seven lines…
It’s a ‘MASTERPIECE’ piece of random poo…


Here it is,, just as I found it….

I stand alone at the foot
Of my father's grave,
Trembling to tell:
The door to the granary is open,
Sir,
And someone lost the bucket
To the well.

By William Kloefhorn (Nebraska state poet)
retyped exactly as I found it.....

Posted in column 'American Life in Poetry" (1-27-08)
Ted Kooser (US poet lauerate 2004-2006)

If this is 'great poetry',, no wonder I don't read poems...

I also wrote one of my own,, it took about 30 seconds…


MY HIGHBROW NY POEM’E…………

I stand on a chair
Gaze down
Extent full of darkness
Tang of spaghetti
A pallid bell jar for me
Twisting revolving left and right

Down onto covered earth
Past a scenery for three
Oh if only I could identify
Click,, I am God

I should be getting a call from the Pulitzer prize committee
any time now………

5 comments:

Lorelei said...

I guess my brain is full of poo too, 'cause I like it! His father was so scary he's still scared of him even after he died. That's pretty darn scary.

Your poem doesn't make any sense, because my brain is full of poo. :-P

gt281 said...

to Lorelei:
your insane...
What does this mean?...
The door to the granary is open,
Sir,
And someone lost the bucket
To the well.

my poem'e makes perfect sense,, I'll tell you what it is about later...

Bob Johnson said...

Never been much of a fan of 30 second poems.

Drowsey Monkey said...

lol...

I so don't get poetry. It all sounds bad to me. Except yours of course.

gt281 said...

to Drowsey:
I don't do poetry...I do rhyming verses...
Poetry is something that limp wristed NYers do...

And no matter how nice of comments you leave,, I'm not giving you any
donuts because your on a WW DIET...