Monkfish to silverfish

Last night I was high on coffee in the office. It was pitch black out. I was working on a long poem. They were basically a bunch of postmodern ghazals (postmodern = lazy). Near the end of the night I wrote this:

Untimely bald and addicted to Rogaine.
Though some say he became a man of the cloth,

a monk with a methlab, a monkfish to silverfish.
Others locate him in Iowa, frequenter of saloons and...

This morning I'm like, geezus. What the hell could that mean? A monk with a methlab? A Monkfish to silverfish? Was I channeling some sinister exboyfriend? Did I regress under influence of caffeine to the kindergarten mind of word-games and rhymes? A monk with a methlab is one thing, at least that makes logical sense, but what does that have to do with monkfish and silverfish? These sorts of rudimentary staircases are an indication that you should put down the pen and go have a burger and beer, which is exactly what I did last night.

Posted by jason at November 9, 2024 09:07 AM