Sunday, May 1, 2011

They are very good at pleasure

(based on suggestions from @marklawrence, @eglantinescake, @pinknantucket, @_camer0n, @SeanMElliott, @hleighthree and @iFigaro2u)

They sleep in your bed for a reason.

Because their bones are growing,

children always look surprised.

Getting taller helps, it spreads out.

You know it's a sad day when your

child looks at you and asks

'Daddy, are these organic?’

I don’t see teenagers any more:

I see youths. Slumped S shapes

plotting something terrible

like making cider out of blood.

There are two types of wine, essentially.

There’s the one where you drink it and go

‘can we get 8 of those please.’

Then there’s the other one, you know,

the one that turns to Jesus.

This is children’s booze.

All great religions are built on shame.

Why not just have a physical afterlife?

It’s only going to escalate from there,

just come back as a tentacle with a set of lips.

Fruit... it's just God showing off.

Here, have a judge’s bun.

Chocolate bread! I was in Paris recently,

that’s how they start the day.

It’s the kind of place you go to commit

proper, serious pleasure:

smear it all over your face.

The cookery programmes are ridiculous,

it’s not really baking, is it?

Give me one of those chocolate guys,

not twigs fried in honey. Think of a bee.

Do you have any bee-keeping equipment?

Who has the time, though,

who really has the time to dip it in

duck’s tears and anything runnier than bread?

We suck stones for money

in order to attend the party.

The fact is that you’re not an adult at all,

you’re just a tall child holding a beer

having conversations all like,

"Hello. How are you?"

Adults are terribly confused, messed up people.

Children aren't like that,

which is why they look so young.

What a child hears is:

cake is the language of love.


Today’s poem is based on suggestions from seven peeps:

  • @marklawrence: “Our young children growing older. Cuddling them. How do we still hold on to them? Literally! Big=gangly=can't fit in arms.”
  • @eglantinescake: “making bread.”
  • @marklawrence: “Bees. Keeping bees in backyards?”
  • @pinknantucket: “fruit buns”
  • @_camer0n: “Transubstantiation & "Like hello"”
  • @SeanMElliott: “commitments.”
  • @hleighthree: “money orders!”
  • @iFigaro2u: “time”

Several bread-related suggestions! So naturally I decided to make a poem composed entirely of quotes from Dylan Moran, Bill Bailey and Tamsin Grieg (but mostly Moran because he talks about bread a lot). I haven’t added any words, but I’ve chopped them about mercilessly in order to fit in all the suggestions.


Anonymous said...

The fact is that you’re not an adult at all,

you’re just a tall child holding a beer

having conversations all like,

"Hello. How are you?"

That was my favorite part.

Anna said...

Thanks Hannah :)

Penni said...

Love it all, but specially first and last stanza. You are on clever cookie.

Anna said...

:) Thanks Penni. Mashing other people's words together is fun.