Tag Team Poem /Trip notes

We have a permanent forum on Gotpoetry where there’s a running challenge — someone posts a short poem, and the next poster (or posters — no reason multiple folks can’t try it, of course) has to post a poem, not necessarily related, that begins with the first poem’s last line. That last line has to then be the first line of the next poem, and so on. Theoretically, it goes on forever…

Sometimes, the resulting poems are just silly, and of course you’re always trying to challenge whoever posts next. Sometimes, the results are better than silly.

This is one I posted just recently:

You’re a big-fat-Barry-White-looking motherfucker.
You’ve got more gut than an Indiana trucker.
You’ve got more hair than a dog in a fur coat,
and it sounds like a bullfrog’s caught in your throat.

You’re a big-fat-Barry-White-looking motherfucker.
Your name is Tony. You were born out of luck, sir.
You will learn before long that you end up alone.
When that voice of yours fails you, can you ever go home?

In other news, yesterday AM I did something serious to my foot and can barely walk. This made for a lovely training session of four hours on my feet and a six hour drive home yesterday.

All signs (according to what I find here on the Magic Web) point to something called plantar fascitis, which requires rest, heel support in the shoe, and stretching exercises to get better. At least it’s not surgery. But no NYC trip for me today — sorry, all.

I did get a lovely lunch with aurorabell out of the trip, though…so that’s good.