Thursday, December 23, 2010
Blackthorne & Celeste
I wasn't going to post this, having written it for sheer amusement. But then, wickedness whispered to me in the form of....well, I shan't name her. (oOooo, I just said "shan't". For my next trick, I'm going to sip Darjeeling with my little finger stuck out, just so. See? How cool am I? Don't answer that! We haven't got all day.) Now, as all of my regular readers know, when faced with the temptation to do evil, I generally cave immediately, thereby leaving me more time to actually perform the deed. And so, shower her with hosannas or bombard her with brickbats as you choose, but my friend prevailed, and so here is this lovely bit of doggerel, entitled...
BLACKTHORNE & CELESTE
Blackthorne crouched in his garret
Working feverishly on "Ode To A Backed-Up Drain"
Brooding in the dark--
Wracking his brain--
So very somber deep and serious was he
About finding a way
To shock the industrial bourgeoisie
That he hadn't bathed in weeks
Such that the dirt lay upon him in streaks.
His lady Celeste, light and airy
Dashes off poems
In the haiku form
About unicorns, sprites and fairies
Sort of a Sino-Celtic headache
To make strong persons curse
In having to read it.
They were married in the park
In June in the rain in the dark
His verse got bleaker,
Her haikus, weaker,
And now there's no telling when or if they will stop.
dedicated to Charles Bukowski and Jewel, the finest poets of our time