This is a welcome message in verse for the Poetry Monster Please come in and help the monster organize his cave.
This Monster’s Cave looks like a mess
Though this is a disorder
Creative one I must profess
Or something on the border
Of madness, insolence, and vice
A building site to be precise
Disorder of the highest order
It’s not poetic paradise
Not even on the border
It is no plea, call of distress
But rather’s an invitation…
Come in, ignore the awful mess
And join the celebration
Of what may one day become
A monstrous undertaking
So step into the muses’ home
Stop shivering and shaking
In front of the ugly monster’s site
His sight is short,
His thoughts not bright
His treasures ripe for taking
His breath’s heavy: noxious foam –
Pollution of the muses
But don’t be scared, step right in
And help ignite the fuses
Shake the poetic nitroglycerin
Let us commence abuses
Of verbs, and nouns, and other words
Regardless of their bruises
Let’s burn some stuff, so hop on board
Let’s vivisect the muses!
Let’s also write some brilliant verse
Let’s put it to good uses
(It is impossible of course).
I know for better or for worse
It is impossible of course:
There is no use for verses
There is no use for muses
Though wait, and tell me what you hear?
I hear slurs and curses!
Ignore then, come, put down that phone
TikTok is not escaping!
Don’t run away but join what now looks
like A Disaster in the Making
if you liked this or if you didn’t write to the Fledermaus
- Rombout van Troyen, 1605-1655, – Interior of a Grotto, oil on copper[↩]