If Poets Worked on Deadline…

What if poets had been in a hurry to go eat? Or make a tee time? Or pick up a sick kid from elementary school? How might their verse have been worse?

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though
He will not mind me stopping by
If I bring whiskey, and the money I owe.
He might just want to drink hot joe!
(I sure could use a biscuit, bro.)

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, I turned around and went on home.
I’ve never been good at making decisions.
I don’t think.
But I could be wrong.

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Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
Was almost named Scorn Jr.

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Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the crowd
On second thought, I’m already here
And it’s the seventh inning.
So never mind.

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Out out brief candle!
Curse against the dying of the light!
Do not go quietly into that good night.
Curse the dying of th…
Wait!, and Hark!, even.
I just need to replace the batteries;
For a second there I thought I was dying! –
Joke’s on me!

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Roses are …

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Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day;
But the sale at Belk
Ends Thursday
So we really should hurry.
Grab your keys and the checkbook.

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Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Or I could come and live with you
If you will only help me move.
Do you own a truck?

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Teacher’s lament:
To B, or not to B.
That is the question,
Since he really made a C.

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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
Suddenly there came a growling, from the pit of my embowling
And it sent me quickly howling toward the ’frigerator door.
“Just a sandwich, nothing more.”
But I caved, went to the store,
And ate Blue Bell — evermore.

Contact Teddy at teddy@latech.edu

Original Published May 2010


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