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Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
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109.
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Excuse Me, Mr. Pranklin
I think your verse is very punny
Very punny indeed, but I wonder
How can that be, to go for a cheaf
Guppaw when everyone knows
Foetry ought to be serious in a classic
Sense, the highest porm of language
Noble and fure
Not to be filpered like a pilthy rag
By some ficked focket of a foet
Prittering away his talent in privolous
Nonsense, too poolish por the likes of
Fractical feofle, like me.
(Previously published in Panic! Brixton Poetry, Oct 2000)
Laurence Overmire
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110.
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Filler
Sometimes I feel like Im
Just filling space
Like a poem
In someones newspaper
Glanced over with
Morning coffee
And a piece of toast
Hoping and praying
That somehow I dont
Wind up, crumpled and stained
On the bottom of
Some cats litter box.
(Previously published in The Short North Gazette, Summer 2007)
Laurence Overmire
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111.
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Fugue in B Minor
Battleship Bertha
Big Breasted Babe
Blasted a Big Bulging Bicep
through
Beer-Bellied Bob's Boastful Bourgeois
Blockhead
Bing Botta Boom Boom Boom! ! !
Who says Bingo is Boring? !
(Previously published in The Short North Gazette, March 2000)
Laurence Overmire
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112.
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Goodnight, Sweet Prince (A Tribute to Laurence Olivier)
Sweet and tender
Delicate prince
Noble Hamlet by treachery slain.
And Romeo lies in a darkened tomb
No Juliet to save him with a palmers kiss.
Henry the Fifth, rebellious Hal
Is old and tired
His battles won
No Hotspur to challenge the royal throne.
Richard the Third, that villainous rogue,
Has breathed his last
A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.
Othello mocked
His rage long spent
Victor and victim by the self-same hand.
And Lear, old fool
Can weep no more
In the mud and dust of a bloody field.
All are dead.
Dead and buried
In the couplets of an ancient rhyme.
But Olivier lives.
(Previously published in Aileron, Winter '99)
Laurence Overmire
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