The reader’s face was blank
the words had not sunk in.
The poem had been read
but then he chucked it – in the bin!
He didn’t like that poem,
didn’t ascertain its meaning,
he was busy contemplating pies
and the cost of his dry-cleaning.
But this story is just beginning
for metaphor was pissed,
his very being was compromised,
he didn’t like being dissed.
Simile was outraged,
like a prisoner denied a smoke,
he didn’t like this reader
who was slow beyond the joke,
narrative was spewing
she was livid, through and through,
she told as much to subject and shape,
and they were fuming too.
Symbolism was gnashing teeth,
cross tattoo on her back.
Infuriated – an understatement –
she wouldn’t take no flack.
Outrageous cried the first stanza,
turning to the next,
this reader is beyond the pale
with no clue about the text?
K’noath, that’s how I feel,
my tone is smoky red,
I’m only short but misunderstood
is not the way I’m read.
By now allusion was going crazy,
cartoon smoke came out his ears,
bit like the lies from Abbott’s mouth
before he engages gears.
Rhythm and rhyme were plotting,
they were going with the flow,
let’s take revenge on this dim dude
he knows not how low he will go.
Attributes of the poem united,
in ranting and conniving.
The theme would be taking revenge
– there would be no surviving.
Gathering their weapons so swift –
knives, an axe and chainsaw
oh yes, they were ready for battle –
the reader nowhere to withdraw.
The readers face was blank
as you’d expect from someone dead,
he had failed to hear the music,
so they cut off his empty head.
(soundtrack to the poem)