The Right to Insult!
I had meant for the poem below, previously seen on this, my blog, to appear with my other poems as the second of International Incidents (the first being "I. Attend," a poem dedicated to my friend, Eric Walsh, the Canadian ambassador to Korea), but I must have sent it too late.
I recall looking for it in my poetry folders, and I did finally locate it somehow, and I did send it along, but it must not have reached the editors' eyes early enough.
Anyway, I wrote this poem in hopes of getting an unnamed, but major politician's interest and getting him to insult me in return:
II. Insultry LimerickThere once was a man called Sir Trumpetwho thought ev'ry girl was a strumpet.He was starting to dodder,for he took his own daughterfor a hoe in his garden, dadgummit!
As you see, my insultry limerick could have gotten my poems lots of attention, but such was not to be.
I remain The Great Unknown . . .
posted by Horace Jeffery Hodges @ 7:03 AM
3 comments
3 Comments:
"There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts."
"All that is very well," answered Candide, "but let us hoe our garden."
Perhaps a noisier chain of events would get the attention of the deus ex machina, and I could then pay somebody else to cultivate my garden for me.
Jeffery Hodges
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PS Nice use of hoe.
Jeffery Hodges
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