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POETRY CORNER: Give us your poems!
LE CORNER DU POET DE PETIT
Hello I’m Dalton Felch, editor-for-life of The Daily Weekly Blogicle and all round good egg.
We here at the Blogicle believe that poetry has been largely hijacked by the pseudo-intellectual-left-right-centre-liberal-Stalinist-leaning right. As such, its almost impossible now for the little, hard-working man or woman to get his or her poetry published in the Ant Mcpartland controlled neo-con media.
Well, we here at the Blogicle say ‘no more of your tyranny, Ant’ and we jut two defiant middle fingers at his Everestian forehead. No more we say! No more!
As such, we here at the Blogicle will give a weekly brain-space to all those who would like to see their poetry in print (or on a pulsating LCD screen). Time after time, history has taught us that poetry has the power to prevent wars, heal the sick and dilate the eyes for up to one hour.
We here at the Blogicle say:
POUR OUT YOUR THOUGHT JUICE AND GIVE US YOUR POEMS!
Pour them to: dailyblogicle@gmail.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First off in this weeks poetry corner is the sublime ‘Cartwheel Rape’ by thirty year old Anthony Browne of Waterford, Eire.
Browne has been a professional poet since smoking a fat doobie on his twelfth birthday. He enjoys racketball, degenerate gambling and the later works of Scooter.
To be read in silent repose, with comments always welcome…
Cartwheel Rape
Slut in corner, turned back,
My balls, victim of ransack.
I indulge in a moment of pancreas attack,
Live @ 3 cancelled due to jockey death.
Where did I leave the evidence?
Over by washing vacuum machines.
Sold my solid green underpant for 50 cents,
Small wasps penis is my dreams.
Turbo spin,
Helmet chunk,
Ironised chairs,
Windmills.
Spent time in turmoil,
Obama’s bald bell,
My pant I’ll soil,
My end will swell,
13 donkeys running with burning anuses,
Breaking children’s legs with hardcore Seamuses.
Coal, left on my locker,
Sticking knitting needle in my ribs,
Weasels face itching my chin,
Eating shit with dog’s gay bibs.
Back to the bitch, back to the slut,
Slan leath agus go raibh maith agut.
Turbo spin,
Helmet chunk,
Ironised chairs,
Windmills.
~Anthony Browne
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