Day 17 — grans + accents

Today is my grandmother’s birthday anniversary. I’m pretty exhausted at the end of this week so a light playful bit of silliness for gran.

The Poetic Factoid came about because I’m listening to audiobooks with lots of cool facts but which are really irritating in one specific way.

[Disclaimer: As with yesterday’s entry, this poem was written on the correct day (Friday) but was unable to get it online owing to knock-on effects, meetings, & other exhaustions.]

*****

grandmother mycelium 

without getting all Mushy
in honour of your earth-day
         I wanted to say you were

always the Champignon of grans
always around for Morel support
really knew how to in-spore joy
always calm & kind nothing ever 
         seemed to Truffle your feathers

you were cute as a Button
         completely cap-tivating
the true star of forest & field
may your day be rich golden
         & autumnally earthy in joy

mycelium love is like my-mum’s-mum’s love
         above below & all around us : everywhere

there’s no mushroom for doubt
         you were & always will be sp-awesome

PS I turned out alright too
         not to toot my own Trumpet

*****

Day 17 Factoid — Some audiobooks are hard to listen to owing to:

the perils of pronunciation

many Americans pronounce fungi 

as ˈfən-ˌjī or fʌndʒaɪ 
         [as if they’re enjoying a dance]
instead of ˈfən-gī or fʌŋgi 
         [hanging round an amusing male]
like right minded English-speakers do

but then, many Americans are also nutters

Day 16 – Gossip with a Graphic Twist

Today’s poem began as a game of Gossip (except, instead of taking phrases, I only took one word, occasionally two) based around one of a friend’s favourite childhood books. The resulting pome however, contains messages young chillin’ perhaps shouldn’t read haha. There is also another game going on which I hope you’ll pick up on too.

the gall of my dagger †

this list is not intended to be:

a complete & comprehensive
compendium of my addictions
i don’t live in a liquor aquarium

though i do enjoy a tot o’rum
sometimes before, but usually
after my daily dose of laudanum

there’s no panacea for unhygienic bacteria
other than drown them with spirits
get myself well & truly blotto

i’m content if i get a fix of cacophony
before the cirrhosis coffin encases me
though my gall or liver may not be

“live fast die young” is my motto
i will not be one of those ancient geriatrics
to whom every breath is an impediment

my vital statistics will be perfect & fully automatic
as i soar from the cliff’s edge in my stolen
ferrari  — of this i am quite dogmatic

for while i opt out via automotive hari kari
as i’m shifting into fifth over the Styx
i know i’ll be remembered with an *

note: another name for dagger is obelisk

*crop copy