Poems

Flower Child 

The scarlet Sunset
Made Love with the watered Earth.
Their Child is the Rose.

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Mean Sean Devane from Spokane

Squeezed into the 19 couplets below are fully 39 pairs of words that are spelled as if they should be rhymes but are pronounced differently, sometimes even quite so (like “tamale” and “pale” :). If there is a term for this English language  quirk, I could not find it, so please inform me?

While obviously every couplet ends in “eye-rhymes,” several lines also contain within them two to three additional words paired to the line below that are also busted rhymes. English may not be the most difficult world language to learn, but it is certainly littered with as many broken rules as it has rules to follow, most of these in pronunciation. You’d be surprised how hard it is NOT to rhyme when writing a poem!

You will find a spoken word version of this sad southern noir saga here: https://soundcloud.com/kat330repost/busted-rhymes

This is the tale of Sean Devane, who as a youth
Blew clean from Spokane and headed down south.
Bought himself a Buick that he wasn’t much into
So exchanged it real quick for a silver Ford Pinto.
After the car swap, he rushed right through Kansas.
Wearing his war cap, he pushed on to Arkansas.

In Mena he met a model who said “Hi, my name’s Judy!
I’ve a mighty fine yodel, and I act as an understudy
In an amateur drama playing across the road.
I’m portraying some Panama con-artist broad
Who’s only pretending to be a lily white waif
But instead is very wily, not at all some naif.”

But no break to perform it, she brought that broad home,
Taking a turn for the worse along the road to come.
Her cons created an ocean of cost in deceit,
And soon confirmed Sean had most to forfeit:
Badly got a bum’s rush as she drove off in his Pinto
Her penultimate push to prove what he’d stepped into.

He dialed Judy’s dad to ask “Where is your daughter?”
“Somewhere in Texas,“ her dad chortled in laughter.
So he finally tracked her down to one of Waco’s
Crummy cantinas where she’d been slinging tacos.
But Sean didn’t follow her there for her food;
So clean on his mind he was here for her blood.

When he walked in the joint, she dropped a tamale
From shaking in shock and then drained ashen pale.
She cried out, “Sean, baby, hey, there’s no quarrel!”
But two strides later, she stared down his barrel.
He plainly had no plans to take Judy hostage;
He dispatched her to sender without any postage.

It was hardly any wonder when a Texas jury
Took no time to ponder; nor the judge to bury
Convicted Sean Devane with a ruling to inter
His mortal coil in Spokane the upcoming winter.
Yet the Waco weather was still mighty warm
When that needle of poison went into his arm.

Now, should Sean’s fate feel a bit too untoward,
Know that at least no one called him a coward.

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