Art, Humor, Miscellaneous, Poetry

Is this the Proper Way to Troll a Poet?

(About a 3 minute read)

All day today I was hoping my new bestest poetry buddy, Jane, would drop by the blog and hopefully give me some feedback on a post or two — because she has sharp insights.  But alas!

No Jane. All day, Jane!

So I was excited to eventually discover she’d apparently spent the day composing what a quick scan on my part revealed as a rich, rich poem full of visual imagery and poignant meanings.

Perhaps you can imagine how such an admirable and striking poem called to me, sang to me, “Troll me, Paul, please troll me!”

So I did. I mean, it’s a duty, right?  And much to my satisfaction, another poet, “Soul Gifts“, jumped right in:

SUNSTONE (to Jane):

So there you are! I was worried you’d been kidnapped by pirates on the Thames and then brainwashed unholy to believe your future lay in becoming an itinerant toe nail painter missioned by God — pirates, Jane, you can’t trust them to steer people correct, you know.

But perhaps you can imagine my relief to see you’ve only been working on a poem. I’m a bit distracted at the moment by two weasels squaring off in my kitchen for the last scraps of my deep fried mac and cheese sandwich, but I’ll be back to read your work.

SOUL GIFTS (to Sunstone):

LOL! Who knew being kidnapped by pirates could lead to such an exotic job 🙂

SUNSTONE (to Soul Gifts):

Yes, sadly it’s true! Four years ago, a close friend of mine went missing one evening while attempting to cross Monument Creek using only two inflated condoms as water wings in order to win a foolish bet.. Who would have suspected pirates had sailed up a creek no more than eight feet deep! But that’s pirates for you — always striking where least expected!

At any rate, he was returned to us last month, but as a changed man. Formerly he’d been a respectable accountant, but now he craved only a career as a seesaw mechanic specializing in balancing them so they become suitable to being used as springboards to upward social mobility. Tragic, Soul Gifts, simply tragic.

On the other hand, I myself have now risen from a poet to a petty criminal, so I can’t really complain.

SOUL GIFTS (to Jane):

Jane – THIS is beyond words. Sooooooo good. That’s the best I can do. I’m too distracted at the thought of you being at risk of potentially turning into an itinerant toe nail painter to do any better 🙂

SUNSTONE (to Soul Gifts):

Seriously, Soul Gifts, being an excellent and dedicated poet, Jane is most likely just sleeping off a hang-over or heroin withdrawal, and there’s no real reason for us as her friends to worry. Although, to be sure. one is wise to keep an eye out for pirates in English waters. Of that I’m certain, reasonably certain. I’ve seen far too many traveling toe nail painters in my days to ever grow totally complacent.

You can find Jane’s poem, along with further comments on it, here.

You can find Soul Gifts’ blog here.

4 thoughts on “Is this the Proper Way to Troll a Poet?”

  1. An answer to your question: Yes. it is – it’s the perfect way to poet a troll, or something.

    If you want to know the reason for my absence, you can ask my so called “internet providers”, but they’ll probably deny everything. I can’t tell you the reason I’m back, because I’m sworn to secrecy. It’s a naughty secret only shared by everybody I know, everybody who knows everybody I know, everybody who knows everybody who.. come to think of it, I expect the whole world knows the password to a certain person’s unlimited connection, so word will already have reached you. The only difference between the whole world and me is that I didn’t have to pay £5 to Mr Unknown-Person’s daughter for Mr Unknown-Person’s password.

    Mr Unknown-Person doesn’t know the whole world is using his internet connection, but he is not a nice man. He doesn’t have to pay any extra because of me. Does that justify it?

    I was tempted to let the two weasels out of the kitchen (see how I neatly sidestepped the cat/bag cliché and strengthened the connection between us , all in one fell swoop?), but I’m not a squealer, and anyway, you already knew… didn’t you?


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