This poem was written using a technique that John Ash taught me while I studied Creative Writing under him. Not literally under him, but, you get the idea.
Meanwhile…
Meanwhile, the clay stove wouldn’t light,
The hens pecked away at their seeds,
And, the cows munched on grass,
Trying to boil water during winter in Bihar,
As Sumitra learned, was a pain in the arse.
.
Meanwhile, Bob couldn’t stop himself,
The wedding vows bored him, “exactly how
Long will this bloody thing take?”
He said from the back of the room, Before
Knocking over and landing in the wedding cake.
.
Meanwhile, the last candle burned out,
Plunging Gülşen’s room into darkness,
The power cut reached its third hour,
Istanbul looked better in the dark,
It went on living, even without power.
.
Meanwhile, Federico looked at himself in the mirror,
He stood in his boxers, tensing his muscles,
His body tall, lean and taut,
Five nights a week he spent at the gym, though,
Picking up women was his only sport.
.
Meanwhile, Jimmy-the-disco-dancer stopped mid hip-thrust,
To lower his raised hand and re-adjust,
Sequins on the inside of his pants began to chafe,
He groaned in pain scaring away his date,
Since when has disco dancing ever been safe.
.
Meanwhile, meanwhile, the world went on,
God made things happened,
Not all of them worth writing about,
Sighing in the sky, he said looking down,
“If only everyone was devout.”
.
Sufiyan
Posted on April 14, 2010
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