I felt the pull
Of long ago cartoons
Chiefly in the form
Of their introductions
From the long ago decade
Of the 80's yes
Where I was last a boy
And was still but reading
Voraciously eh
In preparation for the day
I'd be walking the writer's path
Now it's not an easy journey
Especially with the current aim
To be in the fields
Day after day
Until I've felled
Three full fields
Or often more
Sometimes less
But I've found success
The past two years
In harvesting to the aim
Of a million words
So it's not that it ain't no thing
But that it's a thing I can handle
Though I'm not feeling it no
Not this quarter sigh
Just one quarter after
I felled 8 long rows
And thought I was good
For some goodly more
Before the morning ended
Now I ma here
When as a boy
I would have been in the midst
Of watching cartoons
So yay to me
I'm working hard indeed
Just not especially well
Because the harvest is slow
And I sadly know
That I won't be whooping for joy
With the harvest news
Being less than I want it to be
As I'll be fortunate indeed
To bring the morning to an end
With anything more
Than 12 long rows
Aye to be sure
That's a goodly harvest
With plenty of goodly swinging
Of my poet's blade
Sweet Baevalon
But the aim is something closer
To two full fields
As part of the three at least
To mark a day
As being won
Instead of lost
And even 12 long rows
With less than half in the second
Is sadly a ways
From happening
Because I've misplaced the spark
And am fumbling in the dark
Which leaves me thinking
Maybe I should step away
From the writing desk
And return to it
Tonight but only
Come what may
Though doing that
leaves me open
To losing the day
Because the first good count
Showed me short of the 12
That will leave me far behind
The winning point
When the reeling Habs
Are set to play
The soaring Jets
Where they look bad
To lose again
Which would leave us losing both
For the same dang day
For the 3rd dang time this year
So I have to press but on
But don't I yes
And hope I can harvest to the point
Of half a winning harvest
With the goodly hope of course
That I could harvest the rest
On a goodly Saturday night
Even if the Habs
Aren't looking good
To win themselves
As for what I'll harvest
Along the way
To whatever harvest
I end up with
That's a goodly question
To be certain sure
With an answer that sadly is
Anything but certain
Though it's not looking especially good
As I sit here now
Long removed
From those long ago Saturdays
Where this was not the life
I pictured living
Q2
“Nay but not” I loudly said
I'd sooner be dead
Than go weeks on end
Without the goodly taste
Of burgers in mah belly
Which must have been
A little too yelly
As when I was done
With the defiant pose
Replete with shaking fist
I was amazed to see
How many were staring at me
And none too happily neither
All save but one
A fair and lovely lass
Who was smiling and clapping too
With the encouraging words
That sweetly followed
Of “I sense the goodly verse
Inherently there
And we could do worse
Than have a poet cry out loud
Because he's rightly proud
Of what he can do
So how about me and you
Go and hang right out
Because I have no doubt
We'd have some fun”
And it goes without saying
That I was taken aback
But only in the best of ways
Since it'd been too many days
Since I'd last but had a dame
React like this to me
And it wasn't because of poetry
So this was a day to be remembered
Though dumbly staring at her
Was certain sure
To turn her off
If my history was any indication
Or so I thought
Because she grinned and laughed
Then walked right up to me
Like it was the natural thing
In all the world to do
“I get it yes
You're smooth with the words
But awkward in person
And that's okay
Because I would never dream
Of doing what you do
As I see it in the way you stand
That you've owned the stage before
And rest assured
That is hot AF
Sadly
Ain't none of this happened
At least on this Earth
Though had I said it out loud
As in this half thought tale
I'd have gotten the looks
But not the applause
To certain sure
Because poetry here
Is the least regarded art
Just try and convince me yes otherwise
Though yes I thought this when
I saw those burgers
As small as they were
The price was right
And a week without
Was too long for me
And seeing as it caused
All this poetry
Three good rows tonight
And more to come
I'm glad that burger meat was there
And caused what it caused
Because I dare but say
I'll be back for more
Of the goodly tale
Of A Poet And His Muse
Because I can tell from here
That you already like it yes
And even if not
I like it myself
And can feel the goodly pull
Of Story potential
And if nothing else
I can live vicariously through
The goodly adventures
Of A Poet And His Muse
Since ain't none but going on here
As even the thought
Of finding a match
On any site
Is someone's else's dream
As it's been nothing more than that
For most of my time
That I've been there
And over yonder
As I begin to ponder
Is the Universe trying
To tell me something something
Okay okay it is it is
And I'm closer to heeding it yes
Than ignoring it for
Another four or five years
Because man is it something hard
To ever like always be
One man rowing
A two person canoe
Not that I expect of you
To cry boo hoo
And weep for me
Or better yet
Give your single Montreal friend
A good heads up
On that lonely poet
In her fair city
But an I hear you Charles
I have felt your pain before
Or know of ones who have
I wasn't even angry
I just let the phone drop in my lap
Like holy crap
They're failing again
As that is four of the last damn five
How can they survive
The coming surge
The Flames will surely have
If not before they play the Habs
Than surely while they do
And yea, I'm already calling it
The Sens will win as well
A week from tonight
Because why shouldn't they
Yes have a part of the action
As for Monday yeah
That's a given four
And Wednesday being Wednesday
Well need I say more
Which leaves but Friday
Where maybe just maybe
They can slip a winner past
Whoever's in net that night
Though they could surely lose
These seven straight
And lose how many more
But after that
I shudder to think
But will sadly find out
But soon enough
And now I have the extra pressure
To win my day
Because both of us losing
The Habs and me
Is not a thing
That I want to see again
Not this season no
As twice is four times as often
As it should happen
Fortunately
A quick good counting
And check of the time
Shows me doing just fine
As I'm now neatly past
24 hundy
And in a row or three
Probably two
I'll feel but right I will
To go but over
To Happs of course
And drop some writing
About Pick Damn Three
The other exclusive game
That I'm writing about there
Oh excuse me Tau
He will be the one
Yes dropping it
As my favour little sentient letter
is fond of writing
And has taken it upon himself
To write about the games he plays
Notably Uhme
And the aforementioned Pick Three
Both of which
Give fits of grief
Much like the Habs
Are giving me us this year
As one damn night
They can look like beaters of the world
Then fail to win
For games on end
Like wtf Habs
Play to the up
And not the down
And you'll win some games
But they simply cannot
Can they no
Which means they're in for a losing
Either losing out
To the burning Flames
That will walk in through
The open door
The Habs but left open to them
Or to the Leafs
In the first good round
They've played in forever
With a stupid sweep
For added measure
Hey tell me I'm wrong
Even though I'm ever ready
To buy on in
When they show the effort
And the good results
I'm also ready
To see the truth
When they play like suck
And holy f
Are they but sucking again
With no sign of it stopping
Until they're 5th or 6th
Q4