I know I promised to use this blog at least in part as an outlet for my own original creative writing but, well, there hasn’t actually been much of that to share… I can go for weeks without an idea even for a line, let alone a whole finished thing (the worst thing is when I do have an idea but I’m already in bed when I have it and I’ve forgotten it when I get up again). However, the other day I was moved to post a little rant of Facebook about the annual return of the Eastern Koel to my area, which I’ve now substantially recast from free verse outburst into these slightly approximate trimeters:
It’s fucking five a.m.,
Can’t sleep as fucking usual;
That fucking Eastern Koel
Outside in the fucking tree
Is singing its fucking song;
The fucking sun’s not up yet
While you make that fucking racket,
And every fucking year
Around now it’s the fucking same;
A hideous fucking noise,
No wonder I fucking hate you.
You bastard fucking cunts,
Go and get fucking eaten
By my neighbours’ fucking cats.
Why, no, I’m not a fan of the Eastern Koel, and I have no idea what could’ve possibly led you to that entirely correct assumption…
