If it's crap ... We'll tell you
Okay members of Spill, I was given some free time and wanted to practice my talent of writing poetry. (I'm a bit rustier than I used to be.) I wrote this for the site, since I spend so much time on here.
I don't really know what to do with the poem. (Seriously, what is poetry good for?) So I'll post it here for anyone to read. Want to rap it out, draw a picture to it, or whatever, go nuts.
And to the Spill Crew, I mean no offense by this, I was just trying to have some fun. I hope you're more honoured by this poems existence than insulted by it.
And with that said, enjoy the poem:
It’s THAT poem about Spill
It was hosted by some theatrical chums, whom existed in a cartoon,
To warn us of the shit that lay ahead, and what to see would be a boon.
Who had once animated a loony toon, back at the height of his career’s glory,
Then animates his sleepy rants, before posting his reviews up with some pride,
A beer fuelled machine for cinematic downloading.
And makes off colour jokes at the strange anecdotes which he sees.
As they pimp out to their growing fans, the local draft house, the grand Alamo.
I suppose they need some friendly place to view films for their show.
Who takes his place among the group of extremely ordinary gentlemen.
Of a reel deal, which they’ve started, before they’ve climbedUp to find this new demographic, the cinematic-loving beer-drinking kind.
Whose vulnerable mode of transportation, is meant to be passed off with style.
And at tripe trends in film, at which he’ll demand to take a swing.