Thursday, 3 September 2015

Verse coerce by Grant Harbison

He was feeling listless and extremely tired
But when he she pointed the gun
He was immediately inspired
Nothing like adrenalin to accelerate the brain
And the simple fact that she was quite insane
“You shall poetically wax, boy,” she told him. “Never shall you wane!”
So with vim and vigour he started to write
Knowing that she would offer no respite
And there would be hell to pay if he made her uptight
“I need perfect verse, boy. You better get it right! Heaven help you if you fail to excite!”
Her menacing words were cause for alarm
As he had no doubts she would do him harm
It had almost happened before
With cleaver in her hand she’d rushed through the door
Screaming, “I told you what would happen if you started to bore!”
The monstrous sight had shocked him to the core
“Please don’t hurt me, I’ll do some more!” he’d cried, as cold sweat had seeped through every pore.
 “Give me five sonnets,” she’d wickedly hissed. “Shakespearean ones. On that I insist.”
He’s never defied her
Too afraid to resist
Though he has sometimes wondered how she came to exist
And why he’s constantly deprived him of sleep
The curse of insomnia allows confusion to creep  

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