Ninjuns - Poem by Tan Pratonix
Ever since Ninjuns got into the Online Poetry Sites
They’ve ruined the joy of poetry for me.
They are such a plague.
Hordes of them
Who can’t speak English.
They know nothing of rhyme.
Their grammar is awful,
Their spelling a crime.
Things have gotten from bad to worse!
That’s how Poetella got hit with a terrible curse.
From which it still hasn’t recovered, it's now a slum.
The really good poets have gone away,
And the whole site is so bleak and humdrum.
It’s like Brixton or Peckham, or, worse still, Tottenham.
(I am talking of London, dear chum.)
When they moved into Parc on the edge of Montreal,
It was still a decent place (Mt Royal Parc):
You could have a decent chat, cultured conversation;
Coffee and cake; there was still some class.
But ever since the Ninjuns got into the neighbourhood,
Parc is a ghetto where nothing is good.
And things have gotten from bad to worse.
The area is now ramshackle and sick,
Nobody moves into Parc district.
I’ve nothing against Ninjuns. (Oh, let them be!)
I would rather they gave up po-etry.
Take up drawing or colouring, or plasticine,
Painting, or some other artistry.
But if you ask me to comment on a Ninjun poem
I am going to commit Harakiri.
Comments about Ninjuns by Tan Pratonix
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You