Since the Cavs handed that goddamn game to the Magic, I'm not in a good mood and before any smartass comes here and says that it's only a game and that there are more important things to worry about, conveniently forgetting that I have as much control over the actions of those inexorably potatoing on the couches of power as I do over bricklaying backcourts because I lost my telekinesis back in Albuquerque, let me preempt such an expression by telling you, in the manner of the man currently running America's political discourse, to go fuck yourself.
Luckily for you, gentle reader, this morning a colleague pointed me towards something else born in the blackest pit of the flesh-gnawingest abyss besides gift giving to undeserving basketball teams, a worthy balm against my pain, the truly awful verse of Tom Zart Most Published Poet On The Web©. Look, if you wanna get Jesusified in a non-child raping way I'm damn glad to hear it as long as I don't have to experience such creative banality -- does anyone (of you) remember laughter Milton? Or Dante? Or Donne? -- but fuck, this is just terrible, the poetical equivalent of Thomas Kinkade Painter of Light©. Thus, I present, for your edification in all things offensive to discerning taste, God's Most Humble Poet, Patent Pending.
"And I thought your stuff was bad."
No shit. Despite the tingly-skin magic of RUSH LMBAL POEM, the effervescent joy of CHARLTON HESTON, my favorite line has to be the opener from FORMIDABLE FOE (Dr. Zaius, you may want to grab a fork):
America is the birthday cake of earthWhile you all discuss the pros and cons of cannibalism with frosting, I'm going to patiently wait for the expected cease and desist letter from some slick-haired Megachurch-O-Matic lawyer for unauthorized use of copyrighted material.
Lemme show you how it's done, son.
Oh, Tom Zart, your rhymes are like a wheel-less cart!
Your art is a poison dart to my heart,
Words with the stench of a pork n' beans fart.
I'd love to start a pie chart of just how tart
Your crap is when compared to sweet sweet verse!
'Tis time your lines depart in a shiny black hearse,
While I say with heathen breath, upchucking,
The power of Christ compels you to stop sucking!
26 comments:
Wowsers&stuff! It's only a game
There are more important things to worry about
Fart and pie chart are gosh darn good rimes at times
I wanna get Jesusified, too, bi I gotzta know if it's one of them 12 step programs or do I just take a pill?
What a lovely poem!
Your words bring me to tears,
While rewarding all my fears..
But until the smoke clears...
They are like a dart to my heart..
your pork n' beans fart...
In case you're wondering... no I'm not a published poet but I'll give a big ol High Five and shout AMEN!
If you come to the back door of my house I'll be handing out the elephant tusks there... See ya!
(((Hugs)))
Laura
I am sorry but Okjimm has me busting a gut over here on the left coast Randal.
But you know that I know your pain on the issue of the Cav's taking a powder in the entire second half last night.
Fuckers better wake up and smell the coffee..and it ain't Starbucks! ;p
This is what losing a freakin bb game does to ya? Well fuck you back, and keep your farts at home. We smell the sweet sweet air of rarified Iowa here. Buggery cheek!
okjimm, actually, I woke up this morning thinking about solving the world's problems, but decided that the world deserves 'em.
You should try the patch!
sunshine, oh sure, elephant tusks are all well and good, but if you can get me one of Cheney's fangs, then I'll really be impressed!
dusty, Starbucks is bitter and crappy, kind of like our second half performance!
sherry, with all those farm animals out Iowa way, I'm sure the whiff of soon-to-be-compost is never far off. Fucking Cavs!
sorry your team lost last night
:(
Thank you for bringing the poetry Tom Zart into my life (I was particularly moved by "American Policemen at War"), but thank you more for providing your poetic commentary to put it in its proper perspective.
wow.
you said it was bad. I didn't realize it would be THAT bad.
Usually I mock you or make some sort of snotty comment, but... I can't bring myself to do it, knowing what you've suffered.
I know that Tom Zart has hurt you in places I can only imagine. I hope you feel better soon.
What do you expect from your crappy Cleveland team?
OH WOW!! There's a Jesus patch?? If I wear it ...I don't have to genuflect anymore??
.... And I'm looking for a word that rhymes with pancreas...can you help?
liberality, if they don't win the next one, well, I don't know.
bubs, when you're out and about busting the criminal element, do any of them - clowns, for example - use Satan's tools, and if so, is the ratchet the tool of choice?
thatgirl, almost makes me want to stop using rhyme.
übermilf, I don't want to talk about it, alright?
dguzman, didn't the Mark Cubans lose in the semis?
okjimm, only if you wear it on your knee.
Are there any? Here we go:
Villainous scourge of Dido, Aeneas!
You have broken Carthage's pancreas!
"I have no mouth and I must vomit."
I hate when that happens.
Did you say something about cake? Triple layer fudge with chocolate butter cream frosting?
If not...fuck it.
Graves, you swine!
Poetry is like sculpture to me: let the prose do it (God, I crack myself up).
Regards,
Tengrain
okay. what's not to love about odes to boxing and misspelled credit card xmas rhymes? oh yeah. right. everything.
obviously your colleague is not your friend. and I bet they're not a Cavs fan, either.
tom, I was about to say too bad we can't seal up Cheney's 'cause the idea of him vomiting after the fact is funny, but his words are also funny.
I'm so torn.
nunly, some cake sure would go nice with this coffee. What the hell happened to your Sox yesterday? Bwahahahahaha!
tengrain, I have no mouth and I must groan.
JNRR, you just might be right. Death to all of my coworkers!
Oh man, that Sox game! It was so crazy that we all were laughing hysterically at those bozo's. The Twinkie fans around us didn't even have the chance to rub it in because they couldn't beat the stuff we were saying about the Sox. I got a free beer from a Twinkie because he liked what I yelled out when Ozzie went to the mound to "calm Colon down". I won't repeat what I said here...have to keep up my nunly persona.
It really is only game. It becomes more than that when the Cavs (or Indians or Browns or Blue Jackets...shit or even the Todelo Mud Hens) start loving you back.
nunly, now I must insist you tell us.
spartacus, as long as they keep it platonic. This ain't the Lingerie Bowl.
The one good thing about "RUSH LMBAL POEM" is that if that fat bastard Limbaugh hears about it his head will explode due to it reaching absolute egotistical maximum. Its a physical law of nature, like gravity.
Your poem is the best, and I am oh so honoured to indeedilokily share a birthday with our good poet, Sir Priss-a-Lot.
Post a Comment