I received some random text messages from a friend today:
A
random man on the tube called me a f***ing smartarse this morning
This
is very true
A
random man on the tube called me a f***ing smartarse this morning
Because
I touched his shoe
Maybe it's just me, but this sounded like a daft poem. My brain immediately decided it had to try and join in. I didn't really get a choice in the matter - my brain just seems to like daft poems.
The
random man’s arse was not so smart
It
hung below his knees
He
swung it up between his legs
To
give a cooling breeze
I
asked him not to swing his arse
But he
ignored my earnest plea
Instead
he swung it round his face
And
said he could not see
To try
and stop that swinging arse
I
grabbed a-hold his shoe
I tied
it to its neighbour
With a
clever knot I knew
He
tripped and fell upon his arse
(still
wrapped around his head)
He
cursed and yelled and bawled my name
And
me... I turned and fled.
Apparently the original messages weren't meant to be a poem - the repeated line was just my friend's phone screwing up. Thank you, friend's phone, your mistake gave me another daft poem to add to my collection. And that brings to mind a Neil Gaiman quote I kinda like:
I hope you'll make mistakes. If you're making mistakes, it means you're out there doing something. And the mistakes in themselves can be useful. I once misspelled Caroline, in a letter, transposing the A and the O, and I thought, "Coraline looks like a real name..."
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