Prerequisites
Another day, another deep dive into a previously published poem. This one, like last week’s, was also featured in a SPAM press product from February 2020:
The Apprentice Poetry Anthology
- Make me Money & Don’t Piss Me off
spamzine.co.uk
The pamphlet is a part of SPAM’s poetry anthology series. This one is of course inspired by the UK and US television shows: "The Apprentice". I am thoroughly pleased to share the page with so many other playful and experimental authors. I myself can never pass up an opportunity to berate Trump and corrupt corporate capitalists as a whole, and I know that many others shared this cheery chance among the pages of this publication.
The poem itself is a list of ridiculous items and tasks that might be desired by the rich. I imagined it as one of the many competitions between contestants on the show, a list of duties and objects to collect for either Alan Sugar or Donald Trump to satiate their ever hungry, ham-holes. The items on the list get progressively weirder and more specific, symbolising the ever growing desires and evolved kinks required for billionaires in order to get their sick kicks that might come from exclusivity and power. The narrator of the poem (presumably Trump or Sugar) gets progressively more aggressive and worked up, even becoming excited at the mere notion of having these strange items collected for them.
I don’t really have much more to say about the poem, there are a few little symbolic things in there that I’m proud of, see if you can maybe find them. It’s written as absurdly as I could, because I find humour to be a great coping mechanism for the facets of society that we cannot individually change. Also the accumulation of individual wealth and power really is absurd in its entirety, the notion that someone can be worth billions, and dine with political powers, just because they own a company or have stock in a corporation that undercuts other businesses and exploits workers really is a strange, self-important, ego fantasy world that we live in.
Prerequisites
Here's what I need from you, my loyal little dog sluts;
A hawt towel
A small wooden bowl, filled with lavender
A single, I repeat a_single salt-and-vinegar flavoured Pringle
A blonde plucked hair from Dolph Lundgren’s wet back
Eleven magnum daddy ultra thin condoms with holes pricked into the ends
A fervent cornucopia containing a cul de sacs worth of Indian child dry blood blisters - intact
A sea snake performing the serpentine manoeuvre as I shoot at its indistinguishable tail
Three toothless silverback gorillas, one without arms, one without legs, and the other must have a left leg missing, and a right arm missing. NO BLOOD - do NOT ask you two-bit wanker
Cut the two front legs off of a wooden chair and tie a polio sufferer to it, bring my DDR mat
This is my final request you pathetic boy scout wannabe, boot licking basket weavers:
A bright blue, turtleneck sweater. Btw I literally mean a sweater made from turtle necks.
Bring me all 79 of these items and you will move on to the next round:
Kiddy pool sensory deprivation tank orgy
