Garth
What path
Did you take
When on hanging up your boots
You decided
To forsake
Your Staffy twang
And instead
Began
To speak
To speak
Like a man
Whose only trait
Is to just
Enunciate
Every single
Syllable
In the manner
Of a man
In an exam
For a job
At Buckingham
Palace, mate?
The trouble with World Poetry Day and its subsequent #WPDfootballpoems hashtag is that it leads to simpletons like me – who have never written a poem in their life for a very good reason – to think "Hey, I'll have a bash at that." Apologies to anyone who actually can write poetry. Or likes poetry. Or happens to be Garth Crooks. I will stick to glib remarks about uneventful football matches in future.
2 comments:
It's been pointed out (by my dad, no less) that this poem sounds like Rik from The Young Ones! That's kind of what I was going for - pretentious and wordy for a subject matter that warranted a pretentious tone. Garth would be proud I'm sure! I was trying to channel a bit of John Hegley's style too. And failing. Dismally.
If I'd ever written a poem before, it might have been more like this: http://www.johnhegley.co.uk/networds/docs/owner.htm
I like it. Sounds exactly like something he'd say, which I'm sure was your intention!
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