[SERIOUS DISCLAIMER]:
The following blog-thing has absolutely nothing to do with books, nor is anything intelligent being said herein, furthermore, you will not be a better person for having read this particular blog-thing. Reading it will not impart any lasting value [moral, nutritional, or otherwise]. No dolphins were harmed in the creation of this blog-thing. [For those who may be interested, the Phantom Cat© walked across my bed again last night, I swear to God.] If you choose to read on, the author of this blog waives all lawsuits that may result from time wasted. In lieu of reading the thing any further, the Blog-Proprieter suggests you read a way more interesting piece, like this one entitled Some Penises of Things. Having said all of this, he would now draw your attention to the following freakish photo:
OK, that is a fish that has only one head and yet has two bodies.
It was caught near North Bay, Ontario.
I thought I had seen everything, but apparently..... not!
It merits an ode.....
The Dual-Bodied Pike.
A greater mystery I'd never heard
Though The Phantom Cat comes close.
Three fishermen fell overburd
Yelling, "Damn that thing looks gross!"
A legend was born that very day
'Round the campfire by the brook.
'Bout two tails that tried to swim away
After one mouth bit the hook!
*********
2 comments:
I really wish I hadn't seen that picture...but I had to write to say that I believe your poem may possibly merit publication in an anthology that is a favorite of mine -- poetry lover that I am.
The thing is called "Very Bad Poetry."
It has such subdivisions as "The Worst Baby Talk Poem" ["Tind friends, I pray extuse me / From matin' any speech, / Betause I is so 'ittle / I ain't dot much for each..."]
Other classifications include "The Most Lurid Account of Tragedy," "When Bad Poems Happen to Good Poets," and the linguistically brilliant "The Most Convoluted Syntax."
Here are a few sample lines from the final selection (classified as the Worst Poem Ever Written in the English Language, called "A Tragedy" by Theophile Marzials, a poet who distinguished himself by giving impromptu public recitals of his works in hushed library settings:
"Death!
Plop.
The barges down in the river flop.
Flop, plop.
Above, beneath.
From the slimy branches the grey drips drop
To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop...
And my head shrieks, "Stop!"
And my heart shrieks, "Die."
Or the ever memorable "Ode on the Mammoth Cheese" by James McIntyre, whose special genre was. . . odes on cheese.
"We have seen thee, queen of cheese,
Lying quietly at your ease,
Gently fanned by evening breeze,
Thy fair form no flies dare seize..."
See what I mean? I really think if
there is going to be a Volume II of this book (ed. by Kathryn and Ross Petras) you might have a contender here, Cip.
Good luck!
And don't forget your blog friends when you go on tour promoting your poetry.
What a disturbing picture. Even if I ate fish I'd be afraid to eat that one--or two.
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