Monday, July 9, 2012

Shit Poetry Fans, Weep As One!

Jennings Mulderhorn Strophe,
father of the modern shit poem,
croaks off.

Mazdas and Fiats barrel past him
as he lies helpless and beyond saving
in the middle of La Rue Merde.

The young Strophe could scald the soul
with his grim, fiery fables--
"Cockroach Floating In A Backed-Up Sink" 
won him legions of alienated young fans,
and made him the undisputed master
of random allusion.

Lifted from the pavement, and placed,
too late, into a waiting ambulance,
Strophe is already being eulogized.

Pen & Quill laments, "Like his poems,
Strophe's death would seem to mean something--
but what?"

Indignant, heartbroken female fans throw themselves,
and roses,
at the emergency vehicle as it trolls slowly away
toward eternal fame and routine embalming.

The women carry Strophe's later, softer works
close to their little valentine hearts
like brain-damaged kittens.

Oh, the sharp grief
for the loss of the adequate word at the right time!
His publishers immediately issue a luxurious, leather bound edition,
and advertise it in the coupon sections
of Sunday newspapers across the nation.

How tiresome a world,
without Strophe's genius for 
paint-by-numbers, derivative drollery!

Little is said about Strophe's "blue period",
or his heaps of paeans to carnal love
in which
no twitch
of anything truly erotic can be detected,
thus pacifying the church, and parents,
both of which endorse him for their fragile,
malleable
children to read.

Let us remember a man of letters!
Who better to speak for Strophe, than Strophe himself!

"Perplex-ed I am, when the crumb of life is to much,
And the mountain climb-ed behind us
Shrinks puny before my flaming love as I cry,
Your the one! Adieu!"

Jennings Mulderhorn Strophe
1926-2012
bringing shit poetry
to an adoring world!
_____

my word list was: sharp, indignant, detect, tiresome, luxury, malleable, fable, perplex, grim and scald. 

 

15 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

Oh this is a scream! And through my tears of laughter, I marvel again and how effortlessly you bring a character to life and turn a knife in the gut of lampoonery.


Pen & Quill laments, "Like his poems,
Strophe's death would seem to mean something--
but what?"

I've seen a few of his type around ;)

TexWisGirl said...

i think my brain could understand shit poetry. :)

hedgewitch said...

No one lampoons the buffoons like you, Shay. And why is it someone can be totally mediocre in life and become extolled as a genius by the simple act of dying? It seems to mean something, and yet...my sink is still backed up.

G-Man said...

Shaysie...
Thank you for all your comforting words during my illness.
I'm returning to this fantasy world on Friday 13th.
I know you have 'other' commiments, but I'm telling you anyway...G

Margaret said...

.."but what?" Poor little brain-damaged kittens. Yes, Adieu to Strophe. We won't miss him ;P

rosemary mint said...

"Your the one!" ... Do you mean "You're the one!"?

Or are you taking an intentional jab at this dead "shit" poet who does not know how to use "you're" and "your" correctly?

rosemary mint said...

You popped this one out quickly. You really must have had something to say. ;)

"Jennings Mulderhorn Strophe" ... Love the name.

"La Rue Merde" ... This is the funniest thing ever!!! Way to drive home your point. ;)

"The young Strophe could scald the soul
with his grim, fiery fables" ... Love this (out of context, of course, and not just as a mockery).

"legions of alienated young fans" ... Ah, yes. That does describe the poetry crowd.

"Like his poems,
Strophe's death would seem to mean something--
but what?" ... Hilarious.

"routine embalming" ... :)

"in which
no twitch
of anything truly erotic can be detected" ... Like.

rosemary mint said...

Oh yes, and "to(o) much" ... You must be poking fun. :)

Mama Zen said...

I am far too stricken with grief to leave an adequate word at this time.

HermanTurnip said...

"The women carry Strophe's later, softer works
close to their little valentine hearts
like brain-damaged kittens."

I both applauded and laughed at this.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Hilarious, as ever. Laughed at the "luxurious leather-bound edition". Editors are foolish not to bring forth a luxurious leather-bound edition of YOUR work. What's UP with that?

Daryl Edelstein said...

I had to say his name aloud because it tickled my funny word bone .. what? you dont have a funny word bone?

Buddah Moskowitz said...

My dear Shay, If you must talk shit about me in public, please get your facts straight. I was born in 1963, not 1926. What does it say about my self-loathing that I enjoyed your skewering of me and my legacy? What sucks most is that here in the afterlife, I am no longer a celebrity, just another child of God. Harrump!

Sara said...

Oh, thank you for this wonderful laughter. I've been a bit dry of it lately and feeling my belly wiggle as I laughed out loud at this wonderful poem was medicine to my soul.

I loved these lines:

"The women carry Strophe's later, softer works
close to their little valentine hearts
like brain-damaged kittens."

I've never known someone so good at using words to cut like a knife, while I giggle as they slice.

BTW I confess. I looked up Jennings Mulderhorn Strophe to see if he was real:~) You're really good, Shay!

cloudia charters said...

Merde! YOU are lousy with great words and images!


"The women carry Strophe's later, softer works
close to their little valentine hearts
like brain-damaged kittens."

Didja kinda sorta like my autobio?
(I wonder)


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