03-10-2014, 04:55 AM
Tenth Rewrite:
Fast Fred's final flub is as follows:
After a booze and blow binge and a botched booty call,
he turned and trod with terrible trepidation
down the deck door, determined to drive to Clamdigger’s Cove.
Close the curtains on all collective comeuppance- Saturday’s surpassed all..
Some superbly stacked split-tail made him stiff;
her olive ocular orbs ogled him oddly
as her amazingly arced ass made him antsy to ask
if the wanton woman wanted a wad to wiggle his wood.
But his mega-moistened mouth managed a measly, “May, I, may I..”
before he violently vomited very vast volumes of vittles
on the harpy’s harlequin halter top as she hollered in horror, “Help!”
"..buy you a bottle of bourbon?" he babbled,
grappling with gravity while graphically grabbing George and Gracie.
She kneed his nads, and his noggin nosed her nethers. “I never!” she screamed,
and suddenly stormed, seething, from Sammy’s South Street Saloon.
Fred, frantic and fried, floundered in futility on the foul floor.
Larry, Lester, and the lousy lot laughed long and loudly,
joking and jawing and jabbing and jibing. Fred jockeyed
to a perpendicular position and plodded pathetically past his putrid puddle,
crying, “I’ll crash my crappy Chevy Cobalt into Clamdigger’s Cove, chumps!”
He recklessly rambled into Ralph Ruggles, who reeled, then righted
as Fred fled in his car of red, and is assumed dead.
fogglethorpe (Hugh)
Since I followed you Hugh I thought I would start here. I have to say when the curtain went back I was in shock
I didn't know were to start then, just as I don't know where to start now, You have packed so much into this extending the theme of the previous poem, I really enjoyed wrapping my tongue round this one and its quite a challenge to read it through without mistake, the plot is clear and it bobs and waves like a boxer in a ring. 'her olive ocular orbs ogled him oddly' is my favorite line just because it sets up the plot and thickens the drunken stupor. i was sure about 'Close the curtains on all collective comeuppance- Saturday’s surpassed all..' so I kind of danced around it. Any way I enjoyed following this piece no matter how hard you made it. Best Keith
I should just add that I have very much enjoyed all the poems, reading the changes and seeing the various styles and approaches as they developed. On a personal note I would probably use the full 48 hrs if there is to be a next time. Keith
Fast Fred's final flub is as follows:
After a booze and blow binge and a botched booty call,
he turned and trod with terrible trepidation
down the deck door, determined to drive to Clamdigger’s Cove.
Close the curtains on all collective comeuppance- Saturday’s surpassed all..
Some superbly stacked split-tail made him stiff;
her olive ocular orbs ogled him oddly
as her amazingly arced ass made him antsy to ask
if the wanton woman wanted a wad to wiggle his wood.
But his mega-moistened mouth managed a measly, “May, I, may I..”
before he violently vomited very vast volumes of vittles
on the harpy’s harlequin halter top as she hollered in horror, “Help!”
"..buy you a bottle of bourbon?" he babbled,
grappling with gravity while graphically grabbing George and Gracie.
She kneed his nads, and his noggin nosed her nethers. “I never!” she screamed,
and suddenly stormed, seething, from Sammy’s South Street Saloon.
Fred, frantic and fried, floundered in futility on the foul floor.
Larry, Lester, and the lousy lot laughed long and loudly,
joking and jawing and jabbing and jibing. Fred jockeyed
to a perpendicular position and plodded pathetically past his putrid puddle,
crying, “I’ll crash my crappy Chevy Cobalt into Clamdigger’s Cove, chumps!”
He recklessly rambled into Ralph Ruggles, who reeled, then righted
as Fred fled in his car of red, and is assumed dead.
fogglethorpe (Hugh)
Since I followed you Hugh I thought I would start here. I have to say when the curtain went back I was in shock
I didn't know were to start then, just as I don't know where to start now, You have packed so much into this extending the theme of the previous poem, I really enjoyed wrapping my tongue round this one and its quite a challenge to read it through without mistake, the plot is clear and it bobs and waves like a boxer in a ring. 'her olive ocular orbs ogled him oddly' is my favorite line just because it sets up the plot and thickens the drunken stupor. i was sure about 'Close the curtains on all collective comeuppance- Saturday’s surpassed all..' so I kind of danced around it. Any way I enjoyed following this piece no matter how hard you made it. Best KeithI should just add that I have very much enjoyed all the poems, reading the changes and seeing the various styles and approaches as they developed. On a personal note I would probably use the full 48 hrs if there is to be a next time. Keith
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out