The following is a factual account. No names have been changed, the better to protect the innocent:
“Doctor’s office—yes, he’s in,
Operating right up to his chin
By proscribing his brain
While describing the pain
And prescribing aspirin’.
"Yes, he reeks of the bottom class
Coming out the vowels—a mass!
What do you expect?
He’s a CRAP architect
He operates on an ass!
"NO! the doctor can’t see you now
He’s in crap right up to his brow:
He’s stitching a thread
On what’s said is red
For one more crapulous poww—OW!
"But you can see the doctor,
You can’t HELP! but see this proctur-
dologist,
Typoologist
He’s the biggest s—t concocter
"Of all ass operators,
Oh, the biggest of s--t agitators
At the top of the heap
Of those piles of sheep
And poet impersonators.
"Yes, he operates, didn’t you know it?
On the sighed, to more outflow it.
Yes, his biggest pretention
—Didn’t I mention?
Is that he’s a poet.
"NO! the doctor doesn’t have patience
To correct the operations
Of his PhDesigns:
His asinine lines
His foul-spelling emanations.
"His operations burgeon
At his chief impatient’s urgin’:
'Man, put out your s--t,
Every log-on of it
With Post-operative surgin’.'
"You can see his sign on the door
God, two or three times—or MORE!
Every time that you
Log onto
His office-cum-posterior.
"Yes, he’s top of 'Can’t-sir!' beaters,
'You-CAN’T-polypost!' repeaters
And there are no bans
And, be sure, NO plans
To see less of drpetersz.
"You’ve been patiently waiting—yes, OW!
To get ass relief—and how!
Oh, stop with the voice;
You’ve no log-on choice:
You WILL SEE drpetersz now
"—Look! he’s spewing out typos, the fact is
He’s two-fistedly made this act HIS,
So all you can do,
When so it does spew
Is sue this damned ass for malpractice."
"There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about."
Oscar Wilde
You're witty and can use a dictionary well, on occasion, but as for contributing and enlightening, pushing any boundaries, being new, you fail on all counts, this poem is a nasty piece of work, try answering as yourself, or pehaps you were lost way back on that dreaded Satireday, and can only now communicate through sarcasm.
Not answering is ignorant, nothing else.
Just didn't see the need for this poem.
I'm sure Peter will do a much better job of answering.
Doubt everything. Find your own light.
Oh, I'm sure that Peter will craft a more intelligent and less vitriolic response, but it probably won't rhyme as well
When Satireday presents its rhyme
i usually don't waste my time
but what you wrote was such a crime
i wish that God makes you a mime
David, you crack me up. Satire is a bitter pill to swallow sometimes. Only the successful are satirized. Nobody satirizes a failure.
Les
Heeeeey, Peter is mentioned by name! Cool job David and I echo Les's comments!
I'm concerned, should I actually be seeing the imagery I'm seeing while reading this...LOL!
Some people can't appreciate, so I appreciate for some people...
It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. (Aristotle)
I still only care about the poetry in the poems. I always thought David Madison adept technically, but my heart has never been in getting back at someone who works hard at trying to insult people. You know, the old sticks and stones thing. I don't miss him.
Peter