With the news that the bank has extended my overdraft (“to help meet with the demands of being a graduate”), I went online and made one final stupid purchase, a very demanding 20 GB MP3 player by the name of iPod. More on that soon once it arrives, and I become far more attractive to the potential mugger. Meanwhile, I was preparing my computer for its arrival, you know, giving my desktop a Macover, clearing some space, re-organising files, etc., when I found some poetry that I had written for an English class at UC Davis and had completely forgotten about. The class was ENL166: Love and Contemporary American Poetry, was as awful as that sounds and taught by a blubbering old lady who consistently closed her show in tears.

In a more composed moment she assigned us the task of writing our own ‘love poetry’, some of which I nervously include here, as a first stab at verse. I’m under no impression that this is actually any good but I thought that, at least the sentiment, makes for more cultured blog filler.

The Wedding Planner

A white horse, of course. And a fifteen piece

Brass band playing The Beatles.

Naturally, the best man should wear

A white suit and sit behind

The groom veiled in strands of gold.

It would be nice to have those

Indoor fireworks – white lights – maybe

Chris De Burgh’s, ‘Lady In Red’.

Cups of tea in China cups should

Await the guests. Don’t forget to

Have a Mercedes ready for

The bride, who by the way

Should be Brahmin/Hindu/Punjabi.1