...Some of the worst poetry on Earth. From the high mountainous regions of Peru, Octopus Motor brings you this month's selection of poetry by the more artistic members of a herd found grazing on the western steppes.
Note: These selections were, necessarily, translated by a llama interpreter into his native Peruvian dialect, then into English by way of pidgin Spanish, the 42nd Street bus and two blocks in the back of a Pacer...
GIRAFFIC PARK
Just A Thought: If they made a billion-dollar film about
giraffes would we then get those cool promotional cups at
McDonalds, but with really really long straws???
Got no violence-
Got no sex-
Just those critters
With big long necks.
( and these are real- not special effects )
Got no car chases-
No gunshots-
Just big yellow critters
That gots brown spots.
Got no kickboxing-
No kung fu fighting-
To tell you the truth
It ain't that exciting.
Got no Melanie Griffith-
No Keanu Reeves-
Just big tall critters
That just eat leaves.
Won't see Jack Nicholson - won't see Cher
Won't see Mel Gibson's derriere...
Not much of an adventure -
And very few laughs,
But one thing it does got... giraffes.
Snort.
Snort.
Shuffle.
Trot about briefly before losing interest.
Spit.
Snort.
Translator's Note:
Llamas really don't make much in the way of sounds. Representing this poem in true
llama-ese would actually be more like the art of mime -- except
with a pungent livestock odor, and considerably less white
makeup. Surprisingly enough, there would be more or less the
same level of belligerent instinctive spitting.
