Sunday, October 15, 2006

The Trek

A dissertation of my dear friend's birthday dinner - um - not exactly written in the usual style:

And so the trek begins
In a boat of bananas
Shooting down the forbidden highway
Tracked by the omnipresent electric eyes
Of the profiteers
Kin of the treacherous grits

Safe in the town of Burl
We coast unto the rows
Of homely homes
Where the professor awaits
With Calicoco
The looniest cat in the West

Where Ice box foraging yields the nectar
Of barley and berries
Where the cellar dwelling farmer's blend
Too long confined
Is brought forth to the light of day
Where it dances like prunes
On a ticklish tongue

Where the Captain arrives at last
Safe returned from Fidoland
With six shoes for the six-legged beast
Only to gather us into the mothercraft
And wisk us away to the land of the cask

To the great hall
Where people are milling
And firewater is spilling down our gullets
Chased by the radish of horses

Beams of crimson light
Dancing on the mage's disc
Summon us to our place of honour
Among the commoners

The three Brads
And a servant not named Brad
Who pours the essence of the grape from down under
Into our goblets
And summons a flask of the Pelegrino
To appease Captain Vino

And the tid bits from the sea
Are brought forth and arrayed
On the feasting table
Neptunes shrooms afluffed
And unspoilt fishes sliced and dressed
And scallops disguised in pig's clothing
And the limbs of the great calamari
Torn asunder and layed in a platter
Of the finest adornments
For no defilement be too great a sacrifice
When a Brad's craving demands sated
And there new words are created
And the legend of Percentametrus debated
And life's years counted and celebrated

Bellies fair bursting with the slain cow
And the lowly potato
And the servent well rewarded
We all are reboarded onto the mothercraft
And forth go we on dark roads
To the now familiar abode
Where the beast is shoed
And the chamber door barred
And songs of the Z are sang
Unto the heavens of the Gods of slumber


So there you go. I'm thinking of making this the permanent style of the blog. Everything will be a Homeric epic poem from now on - or - not. Okay, maybe not. Maybe I'm the only one who likes that sort of thing.

1 comment:

Dave said...

Wow...impressive. If I had written it, it would probably go something like this:

Got home from the freakin' Depot with some new wheels for the bed so the floor doesn't get ripped to rat shit.
Found The Squeeze and FWG hanging in the living room. Drank some wine that sucked (see what happens when I save bottles? You risk it going bad! Drink NOW!).
Went to The Keg, ate & drank like pigs. Came home, put the wheels on the bed, installed a doorknob and slept.
Somehow your version sounds so much more civilized.
BTW, I'm all for making all the future posts Homoerotic.