My Year of Writing Dangerously

On the spur of one of my (increasingly rare) moments of inspiration, I decided that in order to maintain my artistic integrity, and because I can't keep calling myself a writer for much longer without actually WRITING something, I am going to write a poem a day for the next year. The first poem will be posted on August 10, 2010 and the last poem will be posted on August 10, 2011. (Unless, of course, I decide to keep going.) Not all of the poems will be good, and DEFINITELY not all of them will be interesting, but I will gaze around my kitchen, my living room, and Coming Home Cafe until something inspires me, then write a poem about it, as well as my random thoughts on the mundane things that no one notices, but which it is my goal to immortalize over the course of this year.



Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Days 78-79 - VOGONS RULE!!!!!

Ladies and gentlement, I have been crowned (literally crowned: they gave me a balloon crown) the third best Vogon poet in all of Vancouver. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. All you really need to know is that Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe.
These are the two poems that won me my title.

1. Ode to a Chunk of my Vomit
(loud, horrible, insurance-premium-raising throat clearing noise)
Bleeyarglegargleflartch
Chunky, funky, hunks.
Gritty, grimy gorks
Binky slimy krungs
The crapicaustic smell brings a bitter joy which burns my sneedle snose
I shove it in the hall to acconstulate and engrogeify and devour passing underling
(whom then I will scoldamnify for ingolerent disgavroooving failure.
This chunk of vomit will live a hundred thousand million of planet Kragnagriminastischemion’s years
(one of which is eguivilakerunt to a hundred thousand million here on insignafiranigant “Earth”)
My chunk will feast repulgnalikiously on grunkly gorks of zunzagreemic klorg.
Oh that I will die, my chunk of vomit will live and be my lanatagniziklious legacy.

2. Don’t Talk to me About Laughter!
Die, laughter.
You granokuluke my ears

Die, laughter!
You unugondumulch my eyes.

Die, desporgrined laughter!
You tuntukilague my filginch

Oh DIE! Most imnikigilous laughter.
You flanjeligate my brain.

DIE DIE DIE DIE… DIE!!!!
Oh horendeligalichinjurugalukish laughter!!!!
You kill my life.

Oh grarga…. (gargling)

(Die. Twitch/gargle.)
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