Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Laird as Poet

Ode to the Olympic Games in London 2012
by the Much Honored Bock McMillan, laird of Southern Charm and prince of Cascade Falls, while in a lousy mood

Bloody lord Coe
Bloody Dr. Rogge
Bloody boring Olympics

Too hot, too hot
Too damn hot
Too much perspiration

Inspiration gone
Incentive gone
Too much perspiration at the bloody Olympics

Citius, Altius, Fortius?
Who cares in this heat!
Molasses in my brain

Salty sweat here
Salty sweat everywhere
Promise of rain betrayed

How long does a writers block last?
How long does a heatwave last?
How long do the damn Olympics last?


  1. Ziggy picks you up in his arms and carries you into his air conditioned living room and feeds you cool grapes as he fans you. He takes a cool cloth and wipes the sweat off your brow and admires your blond eyebrows (and a sneak peak at your blond, hairy calves)
    Ziggy then reads your poem and is amazed at how good it was and what a surprise this hidden talent of Bock's was.

    1. Haha you are too kind, sweet Ziggy! ;) ...but keep on fanning me and feeding me grapes...

  2. Ziggy washes Bock's feet with cool water (even between the toes) and keeps fanning him and feeding him grapes as Bock lounges and relaxes with his favorite music playing...


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