Literature or cruel, child-like poems?
Emily Dickinson once commented, “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.”
In this interlude between Hurley Pro lay-days, new guy to the BeachGrit scene and aspiring poet laureate, Mr. Mariano Landa, has a go at rhetorical decapitation.
Those riding the swells of Lake Trasimene:
Julian Wilson:
Ever you fail us,
dashing golden-locked man child.
Caught more gash than waves.
Taj Burrow:
Flick, flick, smile, flick, flick!
(Johnny Gannon chokes on his
voluminous lips).
Bede Durbidge:
The commoner’s champ:
Father, fisherman, tall guy.
Hype? Longevity.
Miguel Pupo:
Pete Mel claims your flair
for smooth heel whips is his own.
Erudition weeps.
In anticipation of a lone Carthaginian:
Filipe Toledo:
CA surfing died
upon relocating there.
Dino cries feebly.
Joel Parkinson:
Written off, jokes made
about his title laurels?
Beseech overhead waves.
Adriano de Souza:
Australia hates you?
So do I if you triumph
over Wiggolly.
Wiggolly Dantas:
The formidable
right-footer displaces storm clouds,
adroitly brilliant.
Adrian Buchan:
Wait a hot minute!
It’s 2015? Aghast
that you’re still standing.
Mick Fanning:
The Tweed River has
more melanin content
than your heat pairing.
Gabriel Medina:
Thoroughbred glutes, ‘midst
a marvelous boxer’s chin,
alas, all business.
Nat Young:
Chopes or Lowers,
Actinic Keratosis
threatens your success.
as pretty as they are, i used to have little respect for haikus, who new the world surf league, sprinkled with a little Mariano, had so much power. nice.
hahahahahaha, wonderful
quite good, Taj in particular.
Unexpected and delightful