“She’s the actual one, you know, who hooted through the hall of Hogwarts. In the film. Really.”
Up to Wednesday! The prompt/challenge was to write a ten line poem in which every line is a lie.
Here’s my poem, which seems to be part of the same ‘range’ of weird shopkeepers as last year’s The Pies of Awareness (a sinister existential baker) or this year’s A Charm Against Losing It As Spoken by Debonair Metapharmasista Crisby LeFross (who is, as it sounds, an eccentric pharmacist with a twist).
In fact, these may become a pamphlet of first-person poems by a whole high street-full of oddities…Hmm…
Conservation
or Pet Shop Boy
She’s the actual one, you know, who hooted through the hall of Hogwarts. In the film. Really.
Not so active now. They’re nocturnal. What? Yes, in real life the eyes seem much more…shiny.
Peer in here – they’re such low-maintenance pets, clamped to the branches with their camo legs.
What’s that? You could say so. Yes, very similar. But they’re not, though. No. Not clothes pegs.
How about some drama from far-off Siam (that’s Thailand now). Look! A bit of one just fell off!
I know it’s not usual to keep several together. Or that they’re gold. No, the fins just look like J-Cloth.
You’ll barely lift a finger for this little fellow. Underneath that branch…So still, so calm. The gecko.
Yes, I have been in the toyshop next door. But this, this is your actual toy – I mean pet! Pet dinosaur.
Budgies: so bright! Like highlighters. Hmm. Pigeon-size? Err. Don’t touch! Oh…green, pink or blue?
No? I’ve so enjoyed our conversation. A key-ring? Every penny goes towards my conservation.