ksva
02-28-2009, 11:29 AM
24yos wrote a poem for our local poetry contest, which we think is a joke ... 18yod wrote one a few years ago and entered it. We went to the 'reading' of the winners' poems and I never heard such depressing, nonsensical garbage. But I guess one man's garbage is another man's treasure - or something like that. Anyway, he asked me if I wanted to post it and I said why not. So here it is. Enjoy.
Overdo
I once had a book
That was a year overdo.
They began charging interest
And compounded it weekly, too.
Until one novice librarian said
There was a big number inside his head.
He said it was by my name
And I said, “What?”
He said it was a fine
And I said, “But—”
So I cleverly got the title
And just escaped with my loot,
And went home and burned the book
Until it was just soot.
I called and said,
To the man with the number in his head,
That I’d lost the book,
“And I’ll never find it, no matter where I look.”
Surely there was great grief
Among his brethren on the shelf.
As I sat wallowing in relief
I felt bad about myself.
So I went out and bought a new copy:
Hardback with a glossy shine,
First edition, signed by the author
(Which was cheaper than paying the fine).
And then I crept in disguise into the library itself,
And put it in its place, at its home, on its shelf.
And I left feeling much better and lighter,
As if I as a citizen were a pillar,
Because no library should be without a copy
Of The Very Hungry caterpillar.
.
Overdo
I once had a book
That was a year overdo.
They began charging interest
And compounded it weekly, too.
Until one novice librarian said
There was a big number inside his head.
He said it was by my name
And I said, “What?”
He said it was a fine
And I said, “But—”
So I cleverly got the title
And just escaped with my loot,
And went home and burned the book
Until it was just soot.
I called and said,
To the man with the number in his head,
That I’d lost the book,
“And I’ll never find it, no matter where I look.”
Surely there was great grief
Among his brethren on the shelf.
As I sat wallowing in relief
I felt bad about myself.
So I went out and bought a new copy:
Hardback with a glossy shine,
First edition, signed by the author
(Which was cheaper than paying the fine).
And then I crept in disguise into the library itself,
And put it in its place, at its home, on its shelf.
And I left feeling much better and lighter,
As if I as a citizen were a pillar,
Because no library should be without a copy
Of The Very Hungry caterpillar.
.