Thursday, November 03, 2005


I have been accused in certain circles of writing for the beer swigging, stomach scratching, public burping rednecks that you know you are. Ever so true that is.

However my readers, curious voyeurs, friends and Olivia, i will have you know that i am indeed a man of letters, the genteel kind. Infact i will shortly proceed to reproduce here the poem that inspired me to start crafting this blog.


Building The Nation

Today I did my share
In building the nation.
I drove a Permanent Secretary
To an important urgent function
In fact to a lunch at the Vic.

The menu reflected its importance
Cold bell beer with small talk,
Then fried chicken with niceties
Wine to fill the hollowness of the laughs
Ice-cream to cover the stereotype jokes
Coffee to keep the PS awake on return journey.

I drove the Permanent Secretary back.
He yawned many times in back of the car
Then to keep awake, he suddenly asked,
Did you have any lunch friend?
I replied looking straight ahead
And secretly smiling at his belated concern
That i had not, but was slimming!

Upon which he sdaid with a seriousness
That amused more than annoyed me,
Mwanainchi, i too had none!
I attended to matters of state.
Highly delicate diplomatic duties you know,
And friend, it goes aganist my grain,
Causes me stomach ulcers and wind.
Ah, he continued, yawning again,
The pains we suffer in building the nation!

So the PS had ulcers too!
My ulcers i think are equally painful
Only they are caused by hunger,
Not sumptous lunches!

So two nation builders
Arrived home this evening
With terrible stomach pains
The result of building the nation -
- Different ways.

Henry Barlow.


On the assumption that one is feeling rather disenfranchised at my startling display of intellectual dexterity, allow me to reassure you thus, it is far easier to slide down into the abyss of willful mental apathy than it is to duel with true connoisseurs of the written word.

I have thrown down the gauntlet, shall we draw lots?


Blogger Iwaya said...

I'm not fooled! This was a trick to fill up the space instead of writing your own true thoughts. have you asked for henry barlow's permission? i bought him a ciggarette last week and now i can't spell the word.

Fri Nov 04, 09:21:00 pm  
Blogger Iwaya said...

and further more, Monday i expect a new entry. i'm mad. quoth tupac in juice, "I maybe crazy but i just don't give a fuck."

Fri Nov 04, 09:25:00 pm  
Anonymous sarah said...

I love this poem, my fave back in high school days. I was trying to look for it you have just saved the day.

Fri Nov 28, 06:17:00 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i was looking for this poem everywhere...thanks.

Sun Dec 21, 10:18:00 pm  
Blogger Joel's subtle views said...

All time greatest poem.

Fri Sep 23, 08:44:00 pm  

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