Friday, December 12, 2008

Nasal gazing

A Shakespearean sonnet to the blob of booger that was plucked from my proboscis

I celebrate my snot, and sing my snot
That is from out my nose so timely ripped;
I make a joyful noise unto my snot
And then, I roll into a ball, and flick.
To see the world within a grain of snot!
It is a throne of kings, a paradise!
Hath earth a thing to show more fair than snot?
Is this snot worth my nasal sacrifice?
Is this a booger that I see before me?
Doth mucous from my nose forth greenly drip?
Then out, damn snot! And take thy hanky with thee -
Take out thy snot rag, hand, and let it rip!
But blow, thou nasal winds, and bleach, and blot -
For all is snot, the snot, and nothing but the snot.

AFTERWORD: I actually wrote three of these, but this was the best one. I might do them as a performance piece sometime, which is how I first thought of them - because the best place to pick your nose is on stage, where EVERYONE CAN FREAKING WELL SEE YOU. Obviously.

Ehrm. This being by way of explanation, and all that.


The Topiary Cow said...

(tearing up)

Why, this poetry brings a burning desire for kleenex. Or perhaps a hankie.


The Topiary Cow said...

"Nasal gazing"

Ha! Just got that one....


nailpolishblues said...

Heh, I was only thinking of weird things to put in sonnets last night - right before deciding to give it up then and there as I am one of the world's worst writers of poetry. Snot was not one of the options I came up with though. I wonder if I should be thinking of snot more?

Maria said...

Boogar and mucous-y what nots are all very fine when they are your own.

However other people's boogar gets a little more icky, especially complete stranger's boogar gleaned from goodness-knows-where (as opposed to wiping a snotty baby's boogar which you may be wiping).

I was at Gordon station recently and I put my hand on the hand rail of the steps.

On the other side of the railing, unfortunately, there was mucous-y stuff. Spittle, boogar? It was mucous-y pus-like, whatever. Eeeek!

Not something I wanted to ride home on the bus with. In fact I couldn't even rummage thfough my handbag with my hand like that.

I was fortunate the station toilets were unlocked so I went and scrubbed my hands with soap.

Three times!

You never do know who put the boogar on that hand rail, and anyhow I'm the OCD type.

On the other hand, it could be the hand-rail emitting boogar and who knows what that means!

TimT said...

There's nose business like schnozz business, Topiary!

Nails - great minds clearly think alike. What else did you come up with?

It's always a worry when you find substances like that in places like that, Maria. You're never sure whose they are, or what they are, or how they got there...

Ah, the joys of public transport!

nailpolishblues said...

My memory being what it is, I promptly forgot. All I can remember is that I really liked one of the ideas. I should have written it down or put it in a text or something. Immediately afterwards I got caught up in the utterly bizarre behaviour of a woman who made a melodrama out of a broken umbrella.

Tor Hershman said...

An Atheist Xmas Song
The Little Bummer Boy


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