Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions in the Armpit of Diogenes by DINGO the DISSIDENT binge-thinker here since 2008.

Sunday, 24 July 2022

I don't think I could write a villanelle.

The very prospect causes me to blench.
I really can't write poems very well.

Maybe a drink would help – of fine Moselle...
This kind of poem's easier to write in French,
although there's lots of rhymes for 'villanelle'

in English. (Very good Moselle!
But I must keep struggling at the wordsmith-bench.)
 – What is that delicious thing I smell ?

It has undertones of caramel.
It can't be coming from that snooty wench
who said I don't write poems very well.

Is it from a kind of sweet quenelle ?
It's more attractive than the stench
that's coming from the body in the well

which has begun to bloat and swell
and rot like feet in a wartime trench.
(I really can't write poems at all well,

and definitely not a villanelle!)
Maybe I should start again in French.
Il y avait une chanteuse : Coccinelle,

a media sensation, I've heard tell –
on Wikipedia – a transgender wench...
I really can't write poems very well
and I'll never try no more to write a villanelle.


(As-tu lu The Scarlet Pimpernel ?
Nothing to do with pimprenelle in French...)

Dylan Thomas' macho 'Do not go gentle into that good night'
is a villanelle.  Several have been written by the great Wendy Cope.

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