The theme for this week’s Esoterotica was “You Inspire Me.” Two of my own biggest inspirations are punk rock and weird formal stuff, so this resulted in me creating blackout poetry using the lyrics from Propagandhi’s first three albums. All songs are in order, I just deleted a few completely black lines to make it easier to screenshot.
And if twisting political punk songs into erotica is up your alley, this isn’t the first time I’ve done it.
Here’s a handful of the limerick series I penned to help drag the form out from Nantucket’s shadow. Sure Rhode Island’s poetic representatives aren’t as physically impressive as their northern neighbor, but they probably have great personalities!
There once was a man from Warren
Whose sexual acts were quite borin’.
He hooked up with a chick
who was narcoleptic,
so he didn’t wake her while performin’.
There was once a young fellow from Coventry
who could not help from falling in love with me.
Didn’t want to be rude
since I’m not in to dudes,
so we only made out one time… okay, three.
This was performed last night with fellow local writer Deb Jannerson, whose own book Rabbit Rabbit, was just recently released. Check her out! Just not in the way this guy did.
by Zach Bartlett
Poets don’t need frilled shirts and giant quills,
I now sit with my laptop shining bright.
I only hope the typed-up verse instills
desire to go home with me tonight.
Such women flock this bar that I may woo
them with my rather dull poetic chops.
Show them blank verse confessionals I do,
then watch their little freshmen panties drop.
Don’t mind that I’ve a graduate degree,
and they attend the same school where I teach.
Oh, it’s a leggy blonde one that I see —
She’ll fawn once I start quoting “Dover Beach!”
If my Apple’s not enough to convince,
I’ll make a Greek mythology reference.
Oh the hell I missed his birthday by two whole weeks.
Dr. Seuss won’t mind, though — past the deadline I sneaks!
Oh, the Places You’ll Come!
by Zach Bartlett
It’s quite sad when a long-term relationship ends,
moreso from the perspective of one on the mend.
Many questions arise, their answers beyond reach:
for how long were the smiles just barings of teeth?
Was there anything faked, either climax or statement?
Was my crush on the pixie barista too blatant?Read More »