I’m feeling emotional. My heart is like a, a beating piston something. It’s like, beating, you know. Thump de thump. Over and over again. Besides indicating that I am in fact alive, this beating of my heart indicates somehow that I feel like writing poetry. I’m even wearing a corduroy cap right now. (You can’t prove a negative, so there.) Here goes nothing:
ISLAND CAFE
O Island Cafe, how I revel in your fake palm fronds
Bleach-haired himbos and babelicious blondes.
The best seat in the house is by the animatronic parrots —
See my cheesy Hawaiian shirt? I dare you to wear it.
I’d rather string some flowers around my neck, wanna trade?
‘Cause this might be my one and only chance to get leid.
O Island Cafe, how wonderful you are
Especially when I get a$10 daiquiri from the bar
Bring me some chips ‘n salsa, say you will
‘Cause I’ve wasted away all the salt in Margaritaville
When I go to the bathroom in a heady whirl,
I spring for the door decorated with a hula girl
‘Cause if I go for surfer dude,
I’ll be in the men’s room and that’s rude.
O Island Cafe, how I dig your seasoned fries
But to say this crap tastes good is a pile of lies
The only reason I’m here is for the crappy greenery
And all of that (if you catch my drift) island scenery.
Although I’m largely a prose writer, I do enjoy a bit of poetry now and then. I read a certain Robert Frost poem in class last week. However, this work has inspired my imagination and therefore I give you this response:
Hatted Atlantan
Summer evening surprise
Topless flower-friend.
Topless flowers? Are those like stems? Wha?
Obviously I don’t know much about Frost. (But from what little I’ve read, it’s really awesome!)
I’m totally lost. 😦
I did find a poem, “Once By the Pacific,” that intrigued me:
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
Parodied as follows:
The flattered slugger gave a wistful grin.
The Braves looked over opponents stumbling in,
And thought of doing something on the grass
That would have let good things come to pass.
There are actually 2 comments here. WordPress is weird. Well, now there are three.
Just to be perfectly clear, that haiku was a Matt Adams original. Review lines 4 and 5 of your original work to learn the secret of the topless flower-friend. ^_^
(And you might like this one as well.)
Your skills at poetic mockery are impressive. And now there are four.
Well… I wasn’t suggesting complete excision of all upper-wear, just the future lending of one’s Hawaiian shirt… sigh…
That is a quite good poem.