Saturday November 30th, 2013

The exercise:

Welcome to the final day of November, the 2013 version. I hope that those of you who ventured into the Nanowrimo wilderness escaped intact, and perhaps even with a story to your name.

Let us mark the end of the month by writing four line poems about: art.

Work was rather hectic today, as I covered a birthday party in the alley in the afternoon while also covering the gym and dealing with the winery (and their caterer) who are having their Christmas party at the lanes tonight.

Then a group of ten high schoolers came in to bowl just as the party was wrapping up and I got to do that as well. 

Thankfully the gym was very, very quiet today for whatever reason.


Painted dogs, hair suits,
and frozen famous farts;
Isn't it amazing
what some consider art?


Greg said...

That does sound like quite a busy day! Did the owner warn you when you took the job that it could get so hectic? Still, it sounds like the two halves are fitting together quite well, though I wonder if all the gym goers were in the various parties that you were managin? :-D
I really like today's poem; it is truly astonishing what people consider art. I do think there should be a way to capitalise on it though....

The doctor says he's making art,
But his patients are all screaming.
He says he's going to make a fortune,
But I think he must be dreaming.

Marc said...

Greg - heh, no I wasn't warned. This is definitely the strangest employment situation I've ever been in, but that's not really a bad thing.

Oh dear. I do not think I would like this man to be my doctor. Not at all!