It's official. As reported last month I am a lazy jobless penniless homeless bum, again. Send your donations c/o this rag - send mountains of money - and I will promise to spend it only on beer and cigarettes, while I sponge off the system and camp out nightly, 'cause that's the way I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
I have already received many sympathetic responses from well-wishers. For example Doug Hogsstutter, of Rat's Tail, WA, who writes:
"Dear Lazy SOB
I used to enjoy the high intellectual caliber of your monthly contribution to the Real Change, but since you were laid off last fall you do nothing but moan and whine. What you really need is a good swift kick to the stratosphere. But instead here's a poem that might `lift your spirits' -
Your intellectuality
Is disappearing constantly
Each day and night
Each word you write
And you already probably
couldn't end this poem for me."
You sure got that right, Doug - but thanks for that inspirational call to excellence. You have obviously been following my progress religiously!
Speaking of excellence, it's about time that I used this space to pay my respects to one of the great poets who inspired and influenced me during the malleable years of my youth. I am referring of course to Percival Dovetonsils, but as I don't have a poem to suitably honor Percy this month someone else will have to do. So let's see, who should it be? I want to be intellectual but I don't want to have to think too much - how about Dylan Thomas?
One flask of Scotch and a half hour alone later,
Camping Out on Fern Hill
An Homage to Dylan Thomas
Now as I am old and stiff upon the clover field
About the lilting dumpsite and happy as the grass is red
The Force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Also digs a root into my spine
And am I dumb to tell the dingle starry
And am I dumb to tell the synagogue of the ear of corn
When only the moon rages and the citizens lie abed
And have TVs at elbow and feet?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head,
And pretend a rock is a pillow?
