Poetic Licence

I've got Poetic Licence
Applied the other day
I took a little test you see
They said I was OK.

With this Poetic Licence
I now talk just in verse
But sometimes when out shopping
It feels like quite a curse.

Where some would say
'Tomatoes'
I find myself in rhyme
I ask for things at length you see
It sure eats up the time.

Not 'tomatoes' do I ask for
Nor a kilo and a half
I come out with some poem
I do get lots of laughs.

The other day was dreadful
I wanted some roast duck
But try and try as I might do
The rhyme came quite unstuck
The only word that came to me
Was really very rude
It rhymed with duck quite well you know
But didn't fit with food.

I stumbled and I stumbled
Said 'errrr' a hundred times
And ended up with sausages
For the 57th time.

'Why sausages? '
I hear you ask
It doesn't rhyme with much
But I've got into a habit that simplifies my task
I just say to the butcher
'Do you think I am a bore?
Can I have the very same
That I bought here before? '

Each day it's getting worse and worse
You see I like my beer
But try and try as I might do
It only rhymes with 'queer'.

I've given up on sandwiches
That really is too hard
And trying to buy Panadol
Would foil just any Bard.

I often think of Shakespeare
Wordsworth, Tennyson and Donne
When they went out shopping
Did they just go on and on?

Or were they simply better
And quicker on their toes
Did they just point somewhere
And ask for 'one of those'?

My Licence is provisional
I've only got P plates
I must get in more practice
And not procrastinate.

I should read up on some poets
Using more contemporary words
Maybe those guys from the West Coast
Like that howling man Ginsberg.

They didn't see the need to rhyme
Now that would free me up
They wrote in lower case as well
Now that's a bit of luck.

Their style's just right for emails
In this computer age
So I could buy my goods on line
And dissipate my rage.

Let's have a go with this right now
Now what shall I purchase
A pizza or a hamburger
Delivered to my place.

My God this is fantastic
This is going to be fun
I'll download lots of music
Buy some books from Amazon.

Now will there be some problems?
It doesn't seem that hard
Oh dear for now I've hit one
Using my credit card.

It has such a long number
That doesn't seem to rhyme
No wait I think I've got it
It will simply take more time.

Let's look at that long number now
It ends with 649
Now what on earth could rhyme with that?
Be quick and be on time?

I think this is a breakthrough
I've really cracked it mate
Maybe order some champagne
So I can celebrate.

Suddenly I'm feeling lonely
Well that’s fixed up real quick
I'll go to on-line dating
And chat up some nice chick.

This virtual life suits me
It suits my poetry
I'll never move outside my house
Live electronically.

What's that?
You find me boring?
My talking just in verse?
You think I find it easy?
You think I can't converse
In ordinary language
Well let me tell you straight
It's my total dedication
And desire to innovate
That drives me ever onwards
And makes me play with words
What's that I hear you say to me
You find me quite absurd?
Well let me tell you sunshine
This special and new craft
It marks me out from others
At whom you have to laugh.

It's my artistic mission
To boldly go to where
Wordsworth may have trifled
But I shall bravely dare
To turn this thing called poetry
Into a living tongue
Make other talk seem boring
And find that I belong
In the world of art and culture
Intellect and song.

Combin-ed with the internet
I'll let my message reach
All those happy surfers
Replacing normal speech.

Now, what shall I have for dinner?
Damn those delivery men
The fridge is almost empty
Oh dear, sausages again.


12 May 2004

by David Keig

Comments (2)

Grandpa, the chemist, told this tale: he'd once served Florence Nightingale: 'I'm just in from Sebastopol - my soldiers need more Panadol'...
Made me wriggle with delight like a child. Italians have it easy with all those vowel endings to words!