she could have chosen a pick-axe
or a well rusted garden hoe with wooden handle
or a new philip roth book with special display stand at borders
she chose a shovel
this made the dancers stop dancing
the singers all had strep anyway and so remained silent
the undertakers put down their jewish lit and made for the 'shovel house'
that is what they had named their tool shed
that was very clever
that was read in a book somewhere
miss bridie was a stripper when she was still fuckable
she knew how to work a pole
the undertakers were not counting on this
the undertakers would not read that line as sexist
if it were in a book
especially a philip roth book
she chose a shovel on one of their faces
the man bleated like a sheep with freshly punctured lung
the dancers kept dancing
they wanted to pretend they hadn't seen this
a person who chooses a shovel is no fool
miss bridie was a realist
that is, she realized that all must die
miss bridie only decapitated one undertaker with her shovel
she realized they were already dead
the undead are a stubborn breed she would later acknowledge
in greater detail over a morning newspaper
miss bridie took to screaming
screaming was pleased with this
this is how and why miss bridie chose a shovel
shovel a-chose bridie. miss why and how?
is this.
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18 comments:
this is a better poem than the one i wrote about miss bridie i think. it was written by amazon.
Text Stats
These statistics are computed from the text of this book. (learn more)
Readability (learn more) Compared with books in All Categories
Fog Index: 7.1
13% are easier
87% are harder
Flesch Index: 74.0
12% are easier
88% are harder
Flesch-Kincaid Index: 7.1
24% are easier
76% are harder
Complexity (learn more)
Complex Words: 1%
5% have fewer
95% have more
Syllables per Word: 1.4
10% have fewer
90% have more
Words per Sentence: 16.6
52% have fewer
48% have more
Number of
Characters: 4,963
8% have fewer
92% have more
Words: 745
8% have fewer
92% have more
Sentences: 45
7% have fewer
93% have more
Fun stats
Words per Dollar: 66
Words per Ounce: 54
here is a shitty explanation for what might be a shitty idea.
dinosaurs are for children.
triceratops are a kind of disosaur.
their horns make them not so good for children.
horns pierce children skin.
children read childrens books.
childrens books have great titles.
childrens books written by a triceratops should pierce childrens hearts if they stumbled upon them.
childrens book titles can be an excellent basis for poems and other works that are capable of destroying children.
does this make sense.
i have a list of random childrens book titles.
listen to how sweet these titles are:
Mary by Myself
Mermaid Summer
Miss Rumphius
My Place in Space
the master puppeteer
a pizza the size of the sun
the dark is rising
the return of the twelves
children of the dust
interstellar pig
toning the sweep
oh man fuck childrens books
daniel put up his email address somewhere.
i saw this.
let ian and daniel digest this as well.
when are we meeting tomorrow.
shazbot.
i like hummus. three is good. how beer do you guys drink? is daniel coming toO>? i hope party cat doesnt bite.
3 is fine.
i dont know what hummus is.
i hope party cat does bite.
how beer do you guys drink is a funny question.
i usually drink like 1 sometimes too but i would hate to bring only a few and then someone not get enough i dont know what isnt a funny question these days
what... funny haha?
do you drink like 75 beers at a time and no amount i bring could ever satisfy your primordial urge?
because that would intimidate me.
just bring a couple i wont kill you.
there were words missing from the question.
that is why funny.
i am a caveman.
i like hummus and beer
but i think i have to work
welcome to triceratops daniel.
pretend i said that in a cult leader voice.
i did not.
break your hand.
then they will let you off.
my limit is 17.
that is a serious statment.
do not bring that much.
i break things after 13.
i feel like my dad after 9.
i can be satisfied with much lower numbers.
i take three shots of apple cider and that does the trick for me, so i guess i'll buy a keg from the home depot and fill it up with rubbing alcohol and smear it in chickpeas. then i will drop it off outside ben and jerrys. ok.
i drink the fermented blood of lesser dinosaurs by the gallon.
this makes me tipsy.
then i cut off the top of the taj mahal with my claw and fill it with the strongest alcohol in all of some obscure country (like laos) and drink it in one gulp.
laos isn't that obscure.
i read portnoys complaint once for a class and i saw a philip roth display thing at borders recently.
that is my sole basis for the assertions in this poem.
i dont think anyone cares anyway.
just thought id clear that up for my own benefit.
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