| |
In the beginning, man cried for the Salvation Army. In return, they
came bearing funny hats and tightly buttoned up corset suits and sang
happy trilling songs. Then, having collected some 2p pieces and a
foreign coin of indeterminate value, they left man, still naked and
wandering lonely round the Garden of Edam. Man, poised to sniff the
beguiling smell of Dutch cheese, bent stiffly over to inhale the
pungent yellow globes that hung from the first trees and was thus poked
in the face by branches. Man was disturbed, so he bit the branch and
then cut his mouth. This was also frightening, as man had never
experienced pain before. Instinctively, or learnt from TV, he rubbed
his patch of pain better and was rewarded with a silver pomegranate. It
fell from the blue drenched sky like an earth destroying comet only it
wasn't a comet, or a Dixons, or destroying. Man stood warily peering at
this glowing orb of beauty and poked a shaking finger at it, gradually
touching this rounded fruit gingerly. He then made a splendid Christmas
decoration for his early trees out of it, to be admired and loved by
all his children as they warmly gathered to celebrate themselves and
what they want.
Man then scratched his head at the God made awe in front of him. He
walked for eternity, passing through the gradual stages of skins to
popular sportswear and never flinched much through the process. Fire
was created by mans' need to keep warm and give men in yellow hats a
job. How would he ensure he could make it? He knew he must, since
without warmth there was only cold and thus expensive Paracetamol and
snuffles at Boots. Man thought long and hard about this problem. He
attempted to create it by visualising orange and red, rubbing Salvation
Army people on stones and asking the man next to him if he could borrow
a match. The last option worked.
After he got warm and burnt his sausages, amn sold his concept in a
bidding fiasco which saw dot.com entrepreneurs try to put live flames
on a computer that man had just created. Unfortunately, man saw fire as
wicked brazen machine destroying hot shit and decided to embark on
something else. Man puzzled over the crossword, chewing his pen to
exercise his teeth and give the pen a moon-crater image. What else
could he do?
He asked God, but God was not in at present so he had to leave a
message on the nagel manned answering device in the heavens and not
replied to. God had more important things to sort out like thunder, the
creation of iron ore and inflicting insects on terrified house owners.
Man scratched his chest, his buttocks, his ear lobe and his nasal hair.
Several microbes blew from his torso into the air, and man saw them
with a device he fashioned from spherical clear objects and long tube
and rotating wheel. He was pant-shittingly feared. How could something
so sand grain small cause virulent disease and make NHS hospital jobs
safe?
Man sat in the wild barren land of early civilisation and rubbed the
cluster with some domestos he bought from the shop near to him.
Amazingly this potent gift from the blue bottle; this liquid
saviour, killed the germs off; smacking and hitting these disease specks
with fierceness. Man was happy and made domestos an icon, flanked with
lowly admirers fanning this god with toilet brushes and offering him
dirty toilets to clean. Man was tired, and decided to retire for the
day in his little dwelling made of cereal box wrappings and he went to
sleep. Bless
jasmine maddock
|
|
User Rating: |
|
--
/10
(0 votes) |
|
|
|
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend