30 Poems: Day four


I will not get into a tedious “to rhyme or not to rhyme” discussion. Most of my poetry is not strict rhyme, although I often use structures which require repetends of various sorts. Yet when I wish to write poetry which is totally humorous, I rhyme. Finding rhymes for certain words often leads intrinsically to humour. And there is a certain expectancy, as there is in tonal music. We sense when music has not ended on the “correct” note, and we sense that the word “truck”, for instance, could have a very funny rhyme.

And so I present, for day four, a simple, grumpy, rhyming, swearing piece.

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This is a photo of me, next to a car which I do not own. Despite the grumpiness inherent in this poem, I regard myself as a car enthusiast. And I do actually love driving…most of the time!

DRIVER’S LAMENT

The cunt up ahead is trying to turn right

He would want to do so, in peak Friday-night

He’s too scared to whizz

Past the on-coming cars

The idiot ought to be

Put behind bars

It makes me feel angry

And impotent, too

I’m hungry, I’m tired

And in need of the loo

I did the right thing

And let somebody in

He didn’t acknowledge

Not even a grin

I wish I was bold,

And could ram up his arse

Instead I shall just hurl abuse

As I pass

Who makes the money

From this lucrative racket,

Of putting drivers’ licences

In the fucking corn-flakes packet?

 

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