And I Also Do Poetry…

… well, only when I’m performing at UEA CWS‘s open mic night themed Bad Romance. Unlike the organizers I don’t have any shitty teenage love poetry – not in English, at least – so I decided to write a new one. I read this one last Monday. It’s about a celebrity crush and how you often, years later, discover that the celebrity you once had the hots for is actually not so cool. I’ll leave it up to you to figure out whom this poem is about. Disclaimer: it’s ironic, so I don’t necessarily mean everything I say in it (in fact, most of it is to be taken with a grain of salt, except the last line).

 

I Used To Love You, But Now I’m Not So Sure

You look pretty odd with your make up and all

You’re pale and quite thin and gigantically tall

You wear platform boots and tight leather pants

And act like you’ve got the whole world in your hands

 

You tried every drug mankind ever invented

Appear on TV looking vague and demented

You like to drink absinthe and screw up your brain

And slice your chest open, for “no pain means no gain”

 

You kicked your guitarist, then gave him the sack

Showed Howard Stern your ass, your audience your back

You dissed Bill O’Reilly, made out with your fans

And made girls fight over your empty beer cans

 

You dated an actress, a stripper, a porn star

Your marriage broke up because you just went too far

Girls show your their breasts and their lady bits too

And a virgin once offered herself to you (not me)

 

Oh, that’s right, you also make music, which is rather loud

I often don’t get what you’re singing about

‘Cause you scream and you roar and I don’t have a clue

Whether my English is bad, or is it just you?

 

You’re getting old and put on a shitload of weight

I don’t really like that new record you made

You recently said you’re allergic to tits

But I really don’t care, I still love you to bits

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