Here is my first salvo in the alt.slack POETRY DUEL:
Cap'n Dobbs's Trawl Shack
-------------------------
Located by the side of the bay
Not too far from the big highway
The Trawl Shack does good business
It's open every day!
The Shack is good value -- have a cheap meal
The wide selection includes jellied eel
"Denizens of the deep for YOU to eat -- THE CAPTAIN WELCOMES YOU!"
The walls have nets on and plastic lobsters
Trawling vessel pictures, testemonials from mobsters:
"Dobbs's is great: they fill your plate!"
There's such a wide selection of marine cuisine
>From steaming clams to mussels in butter
There's Stargazie Pie or deep-fried squid
"I have never seen such an array of beautifully cooked seafood"
One customer was heard to mutter
Do yourself a favour
Sample Dobbs's flavour!
* * * * *
Let's face it, Grantland, you're OUTCLASSED here. My command of the
language inspires AWE even amongst the lumpenproleplaying fools here,
who for the most part are unworthy to be exposed to it. It saddens me
to think that you are among those congenitally unable to appreciate
one of the seven aesthetic wonders of the modern world -- the crude
bestiality of your output leaves me in no doubt as to that score!
Suffering as you are from a jargonaphasic disruption of the language
faculty, I feel it behoves me to point out some of the more blatantly
noteworthy features of my writing.
My rhythmical sense is unparalleled: indeed, I can arrange the
spondee, trochee and dactyl into pulsations that are enough to induce
SPONTANEOUS ORGASMS in approximately 90% of readers! I am the master
of strophe and antistrophe, a zeugmatic king and queen of antinomy,
and my rudibrastics are the talk of the town! Those who need SPIRITUAL
ENLIGHTENMENT have found that the music of the spheres is grating,
discordant, and jarring compared to the resonating semantic harmonies
of Truth that my prose sculpts from the gross basal matrix of
thought: the sudden influx of Knowledge[tm] robs MANY of their VERY
SANITY (you see the burnt out cases all around alt.slack; those
foaming at the mouth and bereft of wit). The PLAYFUL PLAY of my
metaphor, analogy, metonymy, hyperbole, litotes, irony, invective,
anamimesis, malapropism, referential elision, pathos, bathos,
interpolation, batrachy, typographical distortions and portmanteaus
often reduces the reader to mewling and whining for my attention, to
PLEADING for me to apply the Big Read Straps before I book them for
LINGUIDRIBBILIOUSNESS!
In short, my prose and poetical output is SO FAR BEYOND the dismality
of your own writing -- the produce of an imagination so limited that
you need to recycle it -- that I could almost weep when confronted
with your crudities!
--
remememedismemberationalessencephalotherroarrogleamitrouselephagentryagain
**** WEB SITE PLUG: http://www.cogsci.ed.ac.uk/~petehip/ZPKIntro.html ****
remementalistonkalligatrememeiostretchinderogathermalicentichoruptamessinge
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From: ljduchez@en.com (Lou Duchez)
Subject: Re: Revelation XI
> Here is my first salvo in the alt.slack POETRY DUEL:
>
> Cap'n Dobbs's Trawl Shack
> -------------------------
[deletia]
Yow. I am inspired to share something I wrote for a very special
person.
DOT - A LOVE POEM
She moves with grace throughout the night
Her ears a-flap, her eyes are bright
With purest joy, the sweet canine
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
Though shithead brothers dost thou keep
Like issuance of hicks and sheep
Still you are naught but grace defined
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
The very roads repeat my cry
Not far drive I, ere I do spy
"Ohio Dept. Of Trans." on signs
ODOT, ODOT, ODOT, be mine!
Your eyes are ebon, sweet and pure
Not marred by pupil, gunk or fur
Your innocence from out them shines
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
Dressed casual most circumstance
When dolled up art thou elegance
What other lady so refined?
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
Your feet so white, so free of dirt
Each with two dots (hope they don't hurt!)
You are pure grace, for you I pine
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
O beauteous 'toon, you I adore
Through twisted plots and jokes galore
Though made of flesh my heart resigns:
Oh Dot, oh Dot, oh Dot, be mine!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lou Duchez - ljduchez@en.com - http://www.en.com/users/ljduchez
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
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From: petehip@cogsci.ed.ac.uk (Peter Hipwell)
Subject: Re: Revelation XI
>DOT - A LOVE POEM
As it doesn't look like Grantland is POET ENOUGH to turn up, I accept
you as his second. A flurry of short works continuing in the marine
theme I have adopted should be the coup de grace, if I am any judge!
The Fishmonger's Daughter
-------------------------
Born in 1788
In the district of London called Billingsgate
The fishmonger's daughter
Does not do what she oughta
The denziens of the deep
Are not the company she wants to keep
She doesn't want to gut the mackrel
It's not a job she wants to tackle
Her daddy thinks she's odd
He likes to filet cod
He sailed the seas with Cap'n McGuffin
Many years ago
Hunting the elusive herring
Trawling high and low
Died in 1839
Eloped with a butcher and had a good time!
Cod from the Stars
------------------
Cod from the stars
Abducting women from bars
For fishy satiation
And extreme denigration
Kelp
----
Eat kelp, it's good for you
It contains vitamins and minerals too!
Starfish
--------
Oh look at the starfish
With its five-fold symmetry
And underside covered with suckers
It's flexibility allows it
To devour the shellfish that are its diet
And if you chop it up
You get more starfish
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: ljduchez@en.com (Lou Duchez)
Subject: Re: Revelation XI
> As it doesn't look like Grantland is POET ENOUGH to turn up, I accept
> you as his second.
No way! He's mean and he puts extra vowels in my name. I am the
free agent, I wade into battle for the sheer joy of poetry.
> A flurry of short works continuing in the marine
> theme I have adopted should be the coup de grace, if I am any judge!
>
> The Fishmonger's Daughter
> -------------------------
[plus other works deleted]
Fine, I accept the challenge. The only seafaring cartoon characters
I can think of are Beany and Cecil, so ...
Beany Buggers Cecil
-------------------
The Leaking Luna went to sea
With just two crewmen: B. and C.
Said Beany to his serpent friend:
"Oh Cecil, please present your end!"
To Beany said ol' Cecil loud:
"My hiney shall remain unploughed!
Dishonest John is more your type,
>From what I hear, his rump is ripe."
But Beany, he was undeterred:
"What D.J. likes is quite absurd.
The whips and chains and broken glass:
It's too much work for just some ass."
"Oh Cecil, serpent proud and true,
Accept my love, absorb my spew.
For you spins my propeller hat,
I beg you: lie down on the mat."
So Cecil said okay and they did it.
Original file name: POETRY
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