A ‘brilliant young man’ from Sydney
Unfortunately ruptured a kidney —
For his black jeans won’t zip
Round the tenure of hip,
Which perplexed our ‘young’ man from Sydney.


I am the last person in the world to suggest that people should dress in an ‘age-appropriate’ way, which for women seems to mean a sudden desire for demure suits and mousy blonde bobs past the age of forty.  Neither am I inclined to judge people by their size.

But when you see a fellow who is sailing into late middle age rigged out in a grungy something that would challenge a very fit twenty-two year old, well it’s not good, my dear.  It’s not good approaching, and it’s infinitely worse from behind.  Mental vanity can sometimes be expressed in inability to see the body, let alone to mark its changes.  Play and pastiche in clothes are one thing, but black skinny jeans are quite another.

Next week I promise a return to my normal politically astute observations of the world.  Either that or more dodgy style tips from one who tends to favour Rorscharch blotches in neon colours.

This series is proving great fun and shows no sign of ever ending.  This poem was actually the fourth one I have written, but as the first one was also about a woman, I wanted a man to feature as well!  And the third is so toxic (and identifiable) that I may keep that for my own amusement.

You can see which other poets are posting on Tuesday by checking out the sidebar here.

Tuesday poem: Limerick

September 15, 2015

There was a young lim’rick called Brian,
Whose rhyming was most far from fine:
Critics laughed and then pointed
And said ‘He’s disjointed!’
Which hurt the young lim’rick called Brian.

P.S. Cottier

Those who think I should hang my head in shame do not know me very well. I will take play over dry reflection any day. Also, there was an excellent limerick feature in a recent issue of Poetry (the gorgeous one from Chicago) by Anthony Madrid, and who am I to argue with that?

Next week, however, I promise to be more serious, as befits one who is web-linked to other poets.* Read the works of the other Tuesday Poets around the world by pressing here.

*That is a promise in the same sense that a politician promises to stick to policies. A politician is a politician, however well he or she wears a suit. Australia’s new PM has the most lovely suits.

the opposite of poetry?

July 14, 2011

Limericks are meant to be obscene, or at the very least, scurrilous.  The strong ‘message’ and the clunky rhyme pattern make them a very particular form of poetry.  One could not, I think, write a moving or sensitive limerick; that’s a different KOF, to be poured into a sonnet or free verse.

But where the expressed views of a public figure seem crude and somehow thoughtless, the limerick is the best form of poetry there is.  Here’s one about the current Leader of the Opposition in Australia, Mr Tony Abbott, whose political position on climate change seems to be entirely based on crude populism.  (Not that Julia Gillard’s government is a shining example of The Mind Made Flesh, but still…)

And I promise not to do the limerick thing again for a while.  Please excuse double spacing; for some reason my computer ‘does this’ sometimes, and won’t listen to reason.  Which actually seems appropriate for this little poem‘s subject.

My budgie slipped out...

There once was a leader called Abbott

who criticised just as a habit.

The climate did fry

and he couldn’t say why

which bemused this nay-saying maggot.

P.S. Cottier