How Our Man has missed your honest and true comments, DK. You'll be relieved to hear Our Man will be too busy to write much more poetry unless it goes badly at The Immigration Bureau tomorrow and they tell Our Man he has to stay in Japan for the rest of his natural life. But if it goes well, Our Man will be dining here - http://www.tyharborbrewing.co.jp/restaurants/tyh_e.html
- though think they are too high class to carry any of that Korean shit, D.
In choosing low-cost plonk to drink with pork or conch, the smartest thing by far is: jump into the car and drive to Shangri-la (there is one in Chiba) to pluck from Costco's shelves (arranged by low-paid elves) the bottles, red and white whose prices most delight; for me the quickest sell is jugs, 1.5L.
One of my favorites, penned (or penciled?) by James Fenton (former Oxford Professor of Poetry) when he traveled up (down?) the Amazon with Redmond O'Hanlon.
Fenton, not having been thoroughly briefed before departure from England by O'Hanlon, who rightly assumed that if Fenton knew there were headhunters living along the planned route, he might not have come along, DID learn about the headhunters at a very late stage, as their pirogue was entering headhunter (the Ukit tribe) territory.
Fenton wrote: "Fuck it, the Ukit. We're going to kick the bucket." On his safe return to England he was offered the Oxford post, presumably on the strength of that verse.
9 comments:
Torikai shochu. No more need be said.
first post in 4 days and it's a cr@p poem.good to see ntohings changed while I've been in prison.
How Our Man has missed your honest and true comments, DK. You'll be relieved to hear Our Man will be too busy to write much more poetry unless it goes badly at The Immigration Bureau tomorrow and they tell Our Man he has to stay in Japan for the rest of his natural life. But if it goes well, Our Man will be dining here - http://www.tyharborbrewing.co.jp/restaurants/tyh_e.html
- though think they are too high class to carry any of that Korean shit, D.
In choosing low-cost plonk
to drink with pork or conch,
the smartest thing by far
is: jump into the car
and drive to Shangri-la
(there is one in Chiba)
to pluck from Costco's shelves
(arranged by low-paid elves)
the bottles, red and white
whose prices most delight;
for me the quickest sell
is jugs, 1.5L.
Hmmm. This poetry thing is a real pandora's kettle of worms, huh?
now there's a poem roberto.
the clue is in that it rhymes(although roberto's last line sell/litre?).....honestly ourmani,sometimes you're very naieve.
here's an effort from me,inspired by a guy in B wing,who taught me all he knew about poetry.
Greece is f*cked
It can't be bucked
They owe a lot of cash
And don't have a stash.
Spain is f*cked too,
I feel sad boo hoo.
The weather's nice though
And the birds are fit.
Portugal is f*cked as well
The Eurozone is going to hell.
All those lies about convergence criteria
Have caused strikes and hysteria.
there you go Ourmani,read,weep and learn,from B wing's finest
The "L" reads as it's written. :-)
One of my favorites, penned (or penciled?) by James Fenton (former Oxford Professor of Poetry) when he traveled up (down?) the Amazon with Redmond O'Hanlon.
Fenton, not having been thoroughly briefed before departure from England by O'Hanlon, who rightly assumed that if Fenton knew there were headhunters living along the planned route, he might not have come along, DID learn about the headhunters at a very late stage, as their pirogue was entering headhunter (the Ukit tribe) territory.
Fenton wrote: "Fuck it, the Ukit. We're going to kick the bucket." On his safe return to England he was offered the Oxford post, presumably on the strength of that verse.
'The "L" reads as it's written. :-)'
there's a reason I'm an ex doctor.
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